


Souvenirs

by Copperace



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Can't break that coding, Command Trine - Freeform, Courting what courting, Depression, Drunkenness, Dubious Consent, Elite Trine, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Insta marriage, Instincts are a powerful thing, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mating, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mech Preg, Multi, Oral Sex, Racism, Seeker Trines, Seekerlings - Freeform, Seekers are weird, Sorry I friendzoned Skyfire, Starscream makes a dumb mistake, Threesome - M/M/M, Transformers Plug and Play Sexual Interfacing, Trine Dynamics, grounders in Iacon are afts, there are OCs because this is pre-war
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21323692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copperace/pseuds/Copperace
Summary: When his annoying kinseekers demand that he return to Vos to trine, (to stop 'playing games with that shuttle' and 'be responsible,') Starscream cedes to their demands (because otherwise they'll drag him back to Vos kicking and screaming) - but he does everything that he can to avoid getting trined up.Days later, he wakes up hungover and he accidentally brings back souvenirs to Iacon with him, to the great bemusement of everybody (except Skyfire, who is just outraged.)
Relationships: Skyfire/Starscream, Skywarp & Starscream & Thundercracker, Skywarp/Starscream/Thundercracker, Skywarp/Thundercracker
Comments: 15
Kudos: 128





	1. Starscream Makes Bad Choices

**Author's Note:**

> I just woke up with the concept for this story fully formed in my head about a week ago, and I wrote it in six days. My head canon in this story for how seeker trines work and 'trine up' deviates from the far larger story which I am working on (which is up to twenty-four chapters so far.) I really like writing about the effect of instincts on non-human individuals (my perception is that humans feel instincts only very weakly compared to say, cats,) and in this one I kinda scratched that itch a bit.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like it. It's complete and edited, so I'll be posting the chapters as frequently as I can.
> 
> Note: for me, this is what passes for a short story, so it isn't particularly complex. It's just a fluffy ride.

Iacon. Starscream’s chosen home shone splendid under the midorn sun, comfortable and devoid of all the fragging wind shears which dumbaft Vos was famous for, which his dumbaft kind loved for no reason because they were a bunch of idiots. Iacon - its buildings weren’t obnoxiously tall, and it didn’t have obnoxiously shiny spires capable of blinding a mech as he was trying to make his final approach. Iacon - blooming with Cybertronian biodiversity, (sort of,) from the most humble minibot to the biggest, dumbest convoy or construction bot. (So what if there were hardly any seekers there? Starscream liked it better that way.) Iacon - it was where his work was, where he had gone to school (because Vos was a bigoted slaghole,) and it was where Skyfire lived.

Starscream tore his scowling gaze away from the beautiful view outside and stalked back over to the mech in question, who was humming happily to himself as he wrote down notes from their latest experiment which they had just completed. Starscream watched him for over a bream, but Skyfire didn’t comment - he was used to Starscream staring at him. As far as the adorable oaf knew, it was just something seekers did, like cybercats. Actually, Starscream just liked admiring the fact that Skyfire wasn’t Seeker, and since Skyfire was himself just slightly uneducated enough not to know better, Starscream could happily gaze at him for joors without being told off for being a fragging weirdo. It was funny to Starscream too, because Skyfire was so dumb and didn’t know it, and he plain liked how kind the dumbaft shuttle was.

Looked kind, was kind.

  
Skyfire finished jotting down their notes and looked over at where Starscream had perched himself in their lab (which was scaled for Skyfire, not him, so Starscream tended to perch on things.) “I’m done, Star, ready to go home, prettymech?”

Aw damn, another good thing about Skyfire - he was always _complimenting_ Starscream. Almost involuntarily, Starscream started purring and Skyfire’s grin broadened, the shuttle reaching over to pick him up, hugging him in his arms.

Damn, shuttles gave better hugs than seekers too. Starscream clung to him with his claws which Skyfire was well trained enough now not to yelp at and purred as he was petted. _Hm, yes, don’t stop._

“Haha, you’re so cute,” chuckled Skyfire. “Come on, let’s go.”

The dumbaft put him back down on his pedes and Starscream scowled, his purr fading as he looked at the sky beyond the window. Sighing, he followed Skyfire out once the shuttle had collected everything, the shuttle yattering as they reached the front steps of the field science building of the university, “…we should go see that new play that’s on. We haven’t been out on a proper hangout date in ages.”

“It’ll have to be later, Skyfire,” said Starscream, fanning his wings as he felt the warm breeze caress against his plating. “I have to go. If I don’t my creation trine is going to come here and nag us to death.”

“Go to what?” asked Skyfire, frowning. “I know you said that you had a thing in Vos, but I thought you were going to ignore that?”

Starscream could see why Skyfire was confused - traditionally, since before they had even met, Starscream had ignored every social obligation which his creation trine had thrown at him. He’d ignored a relative’s trining, the births of no less than six of his miscellaneous (and dumbaft) full siblings, (none of them were as great as him,) and he’d even managed to escape the last few trining flights by hiding in a wash rack (and getting overcharged enough that he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to be doing.)

He scowled, “Killjoy said that this time if I don’t come on my own they’re going to drag me back to Vos and keep me there.” His dominant sire had even shown him supporting plans for this, showing him without a shadow of a doubt that if he didn’t haul his aft back to Vos of his own free will, he was going to be dragged there - and possibly introduced to mecha with hideous liveries, like the brown _construction_ seeker whom they had been trying to force him to court when he had still lived at home. His grotesque designation had been _Able._ Ew.

“Oh,” said Skyfire disappointedly. Starscream’s relatives hated Skyfire for a reason - his blissful ignorance made him Starscream’s biggest supporter in being contrary to them. Skyfire scratched the back of his helm, “So when are you leaving?”

“Now,” said Starscream.

“What?” Skyfire’s face fell - he’d clearly been hoping for their usual nice quiet evening of cuddling. Starscream would have infinitely preferred that too - flying through the night across the world to the glamorously beautiful city that he hated, to the family who annoyed him senseless, was not his idea of fun (but he had cut it last minute.)

“If I don’t leave tonight Killjoy’s going to fragging show up,” explained Starscream.

Skyfire’s beautiful blue optics widened, (he hated Killjoy, and Killjoy hated him,) “Oh, well - fly safe, then, Starscream. I love you.”

They hugged, Starscream promised not to crash into a building again (trust Killjoy to find it funny to tell Skyfire _that_ story,) and took off, flying away from the nice non-Seeker city of Iacon to the stupid nigh pure Seeker city of his birth. Thanks to the horror of time zone changes, he did fly through the fragging night, ten joors later hauling his exhausted, heavy wings at last to a point where he could see Vos, dazzling in the morning distance. 

Short on fuel, grumpy and tired, Starscream attempted to turn around, intending to walk back to Iacon if he had to - only to find blips on his radar as some of his nefarious kinseekers, who had apparently been laying in wait for him, cut him off.

“Starscream, how are you? Going somewhere?” hissed Farfire, swooping in out of nowhere. He wondered why they had so much time on their servos and remembered that it was a fragging national holiday in Vos - joy.

“Frag off, Farfire,” snapped Starscream, “this was a mistake and I’m going back to fragging Iacon.”

“Are not,” chirped his littermate, Strut, suddenly there too, and looking obnoxiously boring in his dull grey army livery. Starscream often wondered how Strut’s trine could stand looking at his brother - he was a prime example of what Starscream hated about Vos.

“That’s no way to speak to your grandsire!” hissed Redlight, who was also his grandsire. “Time to go home, Starscream. We gotta get you all nice and polished for your big evening.”

Starscream grumpily complied with letting them herd him to their eyrie, but only because he was too tired to fly a dogfight to escape the stupid fraggers. Vos got ever more beautiful the closer he was herded to it but he was too exhausted to admire (or scowl,) at it. He was herded to his home, where his dumbaft family members exclaimed in relief at the sight of him, his grandcarrier Tenor seizing him and planting excessive, grotesquely wet kisses on his cheeks. Seemingly every family member he had was there to hug him, Killjoy looking particularly smug as he purred, “Now, now, Star, was that _so_ hard?”

Yes. Yes it had been.

“Let’s get him into the oil bath,” beamed Tenor. “Comet, you wanna join him? Star, snuggle with your carrier in the oil bath, I’ll keep your carrier’s seekerlings warm.”

“Oh, yes! Please and thank you, Tenor,” said Starscream’s carrier tiredly, rising from her nest which stirred a flurry of small siblings who had been hiding under her wings. Starscream dug in his pedes to stare at them - had they… _multiplied_ yet again? What was with his sires and constantly sparking his poor dumb carrier? Strut pulled on him and Starscream was hauled into the oil bath, the warm liquid immediately soothing his exhausted wings and thrusters. Missilefire, his other sire, helped Comet into the oil with him and she immediately wrapped her arms around him, tearing up, “Oh Star, I’m so happy that you’re home, and that you’re finally going to trine!”

Starscream snorted. He had absolutely no intention of trining. He was going back home to his nice oaf of a shuttle as soon as the trining flight was over, and he doubted that he would remember much about it, because he completely intended to get overcharged.

“Let’s get you nice and pretty for your future trinemates, Star!” crooned Comet. 

“Farfire, do we have a way of checking how much time we have?” asked Killjoy urgently. “Should be this evening that he goes into heat with the others, Killjoy,” said Farfire. “The official flight starts at twentieth joor.”  
  


“We have eight joors then,” smiled Killjoy in relief. “That should be enough time to get him rested and polished. I can’t wait to see him trined.”

Starscream glared, but he let them have their delusions. He had taken a contraceptive before leaving Iacon, so there was no way that he was going to go into heat, and no way that potential trinemates were going to creepily sniff him out then chase him down. With the power of science, (simple science at that,) he was thwarting their disgusting plans, and he smiled to himself as he was pampered, letting his idiot relatives think that he was happy. They teared up like ninnies, declaring how excited they were, and it was a profound relief when they let him rest, even if they did wake him up far too soon, several puny, unknown siblings scrambling away from him with irritating giggles, as if they had been playing a game of sleeping dragon with his passed out frame. 

Some final touches were made to his frame - dark liner applied around his optics, one more pass with the polish (which was sparkly, Starscream was horrified to note,) then his kinseekers stepped back, gazing at him fondly and taking captures as they forced him to pose with his creation trine. Starscream tolerated it while he silently contemplated booking into a hotel for a proper recharge for the duration of the Primus-awful flight, (just as soon as his dumbaft family had been lost.) He even sleepily tolerated being herded by the dumbafts to the audience grounds of the Vosian Royal Palace, where excited, highly polished seekers from all over the country had gathered. Starscream was vaguely aware of the Winglord saying a speech about honouring one’s trinemates, about love and loyalty, about how trinebonds were forever, but he spent most of the speech half in recharge, his overtaxed processor deeply confused about what fragging time it was.

“Alright, Star! Takeoff! This is it!” exclaimed Comet, jittering excitedly as around them thrusters ignited and mecha cheered, urging on their young untrined. Above, a crimson firework glittered in the sky, the signal for the flight to begin.

“Wha?” said Starscream classily.

“Takeoff, dumbaft, it’s time!” hissed Strut, shooing at him.

Starscream glanced at the sky, at all the other seekers bursting into the air, then back at his kinseekers. Slowly, it occurred to his very jet lagged processor that this was his opportunity to escape the slaggers. He scratched the back of his neck, ruffled his plating, yawned, and shrugged, then rose on his thrusters, grimacing at the ridiculous supporting cheers that this drew. Flipping his kin seekers a vague goodbye gesture, he transformed and concentrated on flying away from the other dumbafts filling the air, thinking that perhaps he could make it halfway back to Iacon before tanking into the ground because he was so wasted. 

Since he didn’t feel like flying, actually, he landed on the edge of the nearest roof and drank some high grade from his subspace. Having achieved some faint level of processor function again, he realized that he was still within sight of his dumb kinseekers, who were yelling at him, and he reluctantly took off again, deciding that if he flew high enough, nobody would be able to see him leaving. Congratulating himself on this glorious plan (surely, one of his better ones,) Starscream hummed to himself drunkenly and didn’t quite notice the way that his spark was flickering, or the fact that a part trine was checking him out. In his addled state, fully convinced that the contraceptive was working and contemplating a second cube of high grade (because engex made everything better,) Starscream took a bizarrely long (for him,) time to notice the two sire-coded seekers who were flanking him.

Then he did, and he almost fell out of the sky in horror, yelping, “W-what the frag?!”

“Hey, gorgeous,” purred the green member of the pair. “We’re resonating, wanna complete us?”

Starscream gave an inelegant squawk as he abruptly contemplated that his young adult nightmare, the thing he had long fled, might actually be happening. He dealt with it accordingly - he bolted, tearing away from the broken trine at breakneck speed, at which he suddenly discovered that his first two suitors weren’t the only untrined who had noticed him. Hissing in terror, he flew away as fast as he could, but he was constantly forced to turn, to evade and dodge, as there was seemingly a wall of fragging untrined, and he had never in his life had to avoid so many seekers. It took him a groon to out-fly the first broken trine which decided to chase him, but more rapidly took their place and it was only his pure horror of the situation which kept him moving, flying faster than he could ever remember flying, yet not fast enough as he found it impossible to escape the courting flight. 

All he could do was keep sprinting, keep flying, and while slowly the mass of untrined thinned out, sire-mecha deciding to chase less difficult prey, he had apparently accidentally distinguished himself as a prize. As most mecha gave up, other mecha rose to the challenge, determined to be worthy of him, which absolutely none of them were, not until one literally appeared in front of him to cut him off in a purple flash. Starscream was so bewildered by the fragger materializing in front of him that he didn’t quite notice the idiot’s mate bearing down on him from behind and he squeaked in surprise as strong arms closed firmly around his fuselage, something _clicking_ deep in the back of his processor as he was forced down to the ground, totally stunned.

“Good job, Warp,” panted the fragger pinning him. Through his sensors, Starscream saw the mech grin and he shivered as the seeker - a powerful, Starscream-wasn’t-going-to-admit handsome blue and black specimen with red and white markings - leaned to pet him, stroking his nosecone, which somehow ignited a tingling, nervously excited fire deep inside of him. The blue seeker’s mate materialized again, this time on the ground right in front of him in root mode, Starscream surveying him hazily as he rushed over, then skidded at the blue seeker’s bark, “Don’t scare him! Skywarp, remember what I told you…”

“Sorry, TC,” grinned Skywarp, not seeming at all cowed as he slunk closer, this time more politely. He crouched in front of Starscream and reached out, joining ‘TC’ in what Starscream distantly realized through his astonishment was worshipful petting. Still in his altmode, he eyed Skywarp curiously, noticing the decidedly mischievous grin, the beauty of the black and purple seeker’s dark frame. The broken trine was magnificent, both mecha powerful, ‘TC’ clearly the dominant of the pair and something in Starscream’s spark prompted him to purr in contentment at being touched by them, Skywarp chirping, “Aww, hey, it’s good to meet you, you’re really pretty. I’m Skywarp.” He inched closer and rather daringly hugged what passed for Starscream’s alt mode face, whispering, “I love you already, you’re awesome.”

“He is awesome, and I love him too,” agreed ‘TC,’ all but laying on top of Starscream and hugging him too, then sharing a passionate kiss with Skywarp. He kept stroking Starscream all the while, and as soon as he was done kissing Skywarp, he enwrapped Starscream in his own hug, kissing his cockpit. “Hey, beautiful, gonna get off of you now so that you can follow us home.”

Some distant part of Starscream’s processor screamed that this was his chance, but something made him follow the duo back into the air, Skywarp constantly exclaiming about how lovely he thought Starscream was as ‘TC’ led them to their apparent home. Starscream didn’t pay much attention to it - he swept in for a landing without particularly thinking about what he was doing, drawn to the duo who had caught him as if tied to them, and felt instantly shy as he transformed, the pair stepping close with admiring whispers, their servos trailing adoringly across his frame. 

“Welcome home, love,” purred ‘TC,’ taking his hand and leading him deeper inside, to the nest he obviously shared with Skywarp. Their home was small - their family was only just starting out with them - but Starscream knew distantly that that was about to change. He stepped willingly into the intimate space, unable to think of any reason not to, and ex-vented in satisfaction as he was drowned in their scents which were heavy, protective. He’d be safe here, he knew - still he was nervous though and he trembled as ‘TC’ drew him deeper into the nest, Skywarp hastily shutting then locking the balcony doors of the apartment before hurrying over. Starscream twitched as he suddenly joined them, but ‘TC’ drew him into his arms, then into a long kiss which turned the smouldering fire in his frame into an inferno. Starscream whimpered into it, and when ‘TC’ drew back to vent Skywarp was immediately there, stealing a hungry kiss from him too.

“My designation is Thundercracker,” whispered Thundercracker, formally known as ‘TC,’ “and we are going to devote our lives to protecting you, honouring you and loving you. You are our carrier-mate, and you will bear our seekerlings. You will carry our family.”

Starscream’s spark flickered, and he felt like he had been waiting all of his life to hear such glyphs, to be held between two such outstandingly fine seekers, their plating warm against his, their larger frames gloriously sire-coded with everything which that meant. He couldn’t remember why any of this was ridiculous, why he had tried so hard to skip it, and he shivered, feeling impossibly shy as they slowly coaxed him into laying down then offered him high grade. It wasn’t just any high grade - it was the really expensive slag which Starscream had only ever stared longingly at before, and his wings perked in shock as his new companions toasted him with it, then offered him sips from both of their glasses, which he accepted as they drank from his, then kissed him heatedly again, their servos travelling his frame, exploring his wings. 

At some point he thought that he remembered to tell them his own name, but it was all such a haze after the high grade, especially once Thundercracker’s digits slipped between his thighs then began what must have been an extremely well planned siege against his valve cover. Starscream’s ability to keep his modesty intact crumpled and Skywarp’s fingers joined Thundercracker’s, then Skywarp licked him where nobody ever had, where nobody had ever _implied_ mecha could, Starscream whimpering into Thundercracker’s mouth. Their voices were a reassuring rumble in his audials, coaxing him into willingness, and Starscream only recalled any sense of being difficult when Thundercracker tried to mount him. 

He twisted onto his wings to spike block his consort but Thundercracker was not cowed, merely returning to the tediously wonderful business of coaxing him. Somehow, Starscream was fine with Thundercracker the second time, gasping as the bigger seeker pressed his spike into his valve entrance then squeaking as there was a painful pinch, Skywarp fretting, “TC!”

“He’s fine, I just broke his seal,” panted Thundercracker, stroking Starscream lovingly and tipping his helm with gentle digits to kiss him. “He’s never - ngn - been interfaced before, he’s all ours to educate.”

“Ohhh,” grinned Skywarp.

“Distract him a klik, Warp,” ordered Thundercracker, and Skywarp did, Starscream jerking as Thundercracker used the prescribed flurry of kissing and praise to fully sheath himself, Starscream gasping at the intrusion which he had ever felt before. Thundercracker hugged him, murmuring about how good he felt, and he waited until Starscream relaxed, adjusting to the feeling of the spike filling space which he hadn’t known needed to be filled. Then, it moved, Starscream twitching which made Skywarp giggle, Starscream’s optics widening at the sensuous _drag_ of the thing buried in his valve, then gasping, not in pain, because that had faded, but _pleasure._

“Feels good, doesn’t it? I love TC’s spike,” grinned Skywarp. “I hope you like mine too.”

For some reason it hadn’t occurred to Starscream that Skywarp also had a spike, which was perplexing, given that the thing was standing proud between the teleporter’s thighs, already beading clear prefluid. Starscream stared at it in consternation, wondering when the frag that had happened, and abruptly forgot about it as pleasure flooded his system, leaving him a gasping mess, Thundercracker murmuring his approval as he drew out. Puddled in their nest, bewildered, Starscream didn’t really notice Skywarp switching places with Thundercracker until he was face to face with him, his glossa greeting Starscream’s as he commenced sensuously fragging him.

“F-frag,” gasped Starscream, certain that he sounded like a dumbaft as his vents whirred.

“Yeah, you,” giggled Skywarp, fondling his ailerons as he kissed him again. “We get to do this whenever we want, forever!”

“And does he ever feel good,” purred Thundercracker, who was self servicing in time with Skywarp’s thrusts.

“He’s so twitchy,” panted Skywarp joyously.

“That’s ‘cus he hasn’t ever had a spike before and he’ll never know any but ours, now,” smirked Thundercracker. He reached over and rubbed Starscream’s chest affectionately, “Gonna fill you with newsparks, gorgeous.”

Instead of shrieking and attempting to escape, which was what he would have done had he still possessed any sense whatsoever, Starscream smiled idiotically like this was the best plan ever, ignorant to the puny grain of logic which remained to him, which was sobbing. Skywarp turned his smile to more gasping, more keening in bliss and they let him rest for a few kliks, stroking their spikes as they watched him sprawl rather wontedly on his back, panting for air. Thundercracker propped him up for some more hideously expensive but delectable high grade, toasting their trining again, then he instructed Skywarp to lay on his wings beside Starscream, who didn’t get the point of this at all until Thundercracker helped him straddle Skywarp.

“Up on your knees - scooch forwards a bit -” Thundercracker felt between his legs as Starscream twitched at the kiss of Skywarp’s spike tip against the rim of his valve, and Starscream squirmed as Thundercracker adjusted his mate’s spike, coaxing Starscream, “sink down now. Nice and slow; it’s just about time to be trine but we have to fill you with our transfluid first.”

Starscream squeaked, panting heavily as he found himself sitting in Skywarp’s lap, sheathing the black seeker’s spike. Overwhelmed, he tried to get off and Skywarp hugged him, holding him down, then making him lay with him, his back to the black seeker’s cockpit. Skywarp started nibbling the back of his neck, and Starscream was so distracted that he almost didn’t notice Thundercracker kneeling between their legs. He did certainly notice when he felt the almost painful entrance of Thundercracker’s spike joining Skywarp’s, but the pain faded as quickly as the sting of the breaking seal had, and his consorts were exquisitely gentle as they began to thrust. Moans came breathy from all of them, Starscream whimpering then outright crying at how good it felt because he had never experienced anything better. 

It was the most amazing sensation that he had ever felt and this time when he overloaded his consorts fragged him through it, chasing a third overload with him. It came, heavy, hot and sensuous, Thundercracker shouting as they filled Starscream with glorious liquid heat. Starscream sobbed through the crescendos of the overload, feeling their spikes twitch agreeably within his viciously clamping valve, which didn’t want to let go. After a bream of recovery they did slip out though, and Thundercracker brushed Starscream’s valve cover shut, then pinned him to their nest on his back, Skywarp joining him hastily. Starscream found himself gazing up at both of them and adoring them, knowing that they would protect him, that they would provide for him when he couldn’t fly. 

He trilled in acceptance, earning himself nuzzles and kisses, then Thundercracker bore his spark in demand, Skywarp following suit, and Starscream couldn’t help but answer with his own. Despite having never even seen his own spark before he somehow knew how to bear it in that instance and he keened as it met its mates. Electricity and emotion shook through him as he felt what they felt, their relief and joy at finding him, and he gave them his impossible loneliness, now solved. He hadn’t known that he was so alone before, but no longer, and he purred gaspily as he felt himself bound, the trinebond cementing, becoming unbreakable in a flood of orgasmic heat. _Belonging_ came with it and his new mates rumbled contentedly in possession, their rights to him secure. 

Then - an sensation of clean breaking, like something snapping painlessly, and overload overtook his senses like a blaze of fire, clearing everything away. Starscream sank into warm darkness, comforted by his new trine, who hovered over him protectively, coded to stay by his side until he onlined again, firmly theirs forevermore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TC and Warp have no idea what they just caught. Also, usually some 'work' is needed before someone is taken by two other people at once... but if seekers operate in threes, it made sense to me that during a heat cycle (even just a trining heat which Starscream obviously barely feels any physical symptoms from- although maybe that's just because of the engex,) they temporarily wouldn't need to worry about such things.


	2. What the Frag Just Happened?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream wakes up three days later and has no idea what the frag just happened. Meanwhile, Thundercracker and Skywarp know exactly what the frag just happened and are elated.
> 
> Meanwhile, Skyfire is panicking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that please make sure that you read the tags. :)

“TC, he’s so pretty,” whispered Skywarp, reverent, his spark feeling almost swollen with love as he gazed upon the serene, beautiful face of their new carrier-mate. They had tucked the nicest of their blankets around him, and Skywarp ached to get back under them with him, but the lovely mech was still recharging deeply, curled half in an adorable ball on his side, wings limp in his slumber. Apart from Thundercracker, he had never met a seeker he loved to look at more and he felt like it was impossible to even look away from admiring him. Their new mate was just so beautiful - his livery a finely balanced tricolour of silvery white, glowing crimson and shining azure blue, and Skywarp adored his charcoal hued face, which seemed almost exotic to him. 

“He is perfect,” purred Thundercracker, who was rummaging quietly in their energon cupboard. On the counter sat the half finished bottle of special engex from the night before, the trining high grade which Thundercracker’s creation trine had given them. Thundercracker was making up some energon treats for their new mate, and normally Skywarp would have been watching his every move, eager for a taste, but their carrier-mate was too alluring, to the point where Skywarp couldn’t even tear his gaze away long enough to look at the sky beyond their windows. 

“I hope he likes our apartment,” whispered Skywarp, finding a refined blue servo and stroking it, feeling how soft the plating was beneath his digits. Their apartment was small, but it had a full bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, a huge balcony, and more than enough room for them - and their first litter of little ones. Skywarp’s spark gave an eager flash - Thundercracker had told him not to hope too much, because carrier-seekers were rarely sparked on their trining night and usually required successive matings to compile enough material in their gestation tank to fall into true heat, but Skywarp couldn’t help hoping anyway. 

Their new mate had smelled _good,_ twice as good as any of the others, and he smelled even better now that he reeked of them - in tradition of trining, they hadn’t cleaned the residue of their first mating from his person yet. They hadn’t even the minute amount of energon from the back of his neck from their nips when they had mounted him. Their first bonding activity as trine once the carrier-seeker onlined would be to groom him, replacing the smell of their interface with the more normal smell of their trine. Until then, the carrier-seeker would stay marked by the possessive smears of their coitus, energon and all.

“He’ll like our apartment, Warp, you painted the walls up nice just for him,” beamed Thundercracker, pouring the syrupy treat mixture into a pan to set and placing it in the chiller, licking his digits clean. “Remember how boring they were before?”

“Who paints an apartment _beige_?” replied Skywarp crossly.

“Exactly,” said Thundercracker, returning to Skywarp’s side and gazing down at their new beloved with him. “A seeker with this much pizzazz will like your sense of style.”

“Thanks, TC, I hope so,” purred Skywarp.

“He already loves us,” reminded Thundercracker, tweaking his wing and grinning, then glancing at the balcony as they heard the muffled screech of thrusters. He grinned, “Looks like our creators are here.”

“I hope they don’t online him,” worried Skywarp, smoothing their new mate’s blanket protectively. “What are we going to say when they ask for his designation? We don’t know it, he never told us.”

“He did, but I was, hmm, a bit distracted,” smirked Thundercracker, making Skywarp giggle. “It was ‘Star-something’ - we can tell them that. We’ll probably end up calling him ‘Star’ anyway.”

“He _is_ a star,” purred Skywarp fondly, gazing again at the beautiful face, the smaller seeker endearingly dead to Cybertron. 

“Exactly,” grinned Thundercracker, going to their balcony doors then unlocking them, a hushed chorus of excited greetings sounding off as their creation trines snuck in. Thundercracker proudly led the way to the nest where Skywarp rested alongside their new mate, purring, “Look at him, isn’t he just beautiful?”

“He’s gorgeous, Thundercracker,” sighed Silvertone, Skywarp’s carrier, who slid in cautiously beside him to hug him. “Oh, I am so proud of you both! Good job!”

“You trined the best mech in the flight, Thundercracker,” grinned Captain Winterdive, Thundercracker’s dominant sire. “And I noticed that you did just what I recommended.”

“That was agony,” sighed Skywarp. He had not liked waiting, holding back while all the other sire-coded mecha took chase after the instinctively fleeing carrier-mecha, but Thundercracker had coaxed him to stay patient. _Remember,_ Thundercracker had whispered, _the best ones will be still flying strong when all the rest are taken. Our mate will be too fast for the lazy, for the mecha who lack ambition, so he or she won’t be caught straight off. He’ll stay free while his brethren fall, and after all those joors of avoiding mecha who aren’t up to his calibre, he’ll be tired. That’s when we will capture him._

And they had. Thundercracker had been right and their ambush had been perfect - clean, with minimal stressing of the already thoroughly harassed carrier-mech. The less stress, Thundercracker had explained, the more likely their bond was to start off well, and even better, the more likely that they might possibly succeed in splitting their new mate’s spark. Thundercracker and Skywarp wanted seekerlings - Thundercracker had kept them from attending the last few trining flights on purpose so that they could build up resources, so that everything would be absolutely perfect for their new mate. 

The better the environment that they could provide, the more that they could prove that they were good sires, the more likely they’d be enjoying the scamper of little ones, watching their first litter learn how to play, how to speak and fly. Skywarp couldn’t wait to see the ultimate proof of their love, their suitability as trine and as sires. Creation was success, completion, and Skywarp longed for it deeply - plus he couldn’t wait to _play._

“But look what it got you, mech!” laughed his subordinate sire, Gemflight. “He’s marvellous - tricolour, isn’t he?”

“Yep,” said Skywarp proudly. “He’s snow, and scarlet, and sky.” Using fancy words to describe his new mate felt better than using boring ones.

“That he is,” chuckled Gemflight.

“He’s cute as slag,” grinned Crimsonwing, Thundercracker’s other sire. “Look at him, just recharging away. I think he’ll be at that for a bit, mech looks exhausted.”

“Who wouldn’t be!” laughed Silvertone getting up to hug Skywarp’s sires.

“I certainly was,” said Sharpedge, Thundercracker’s carrier, sharing a proud kiss with Thundercracker’s sires. “What’s the pretty one’s designation, mechs?”

Skywarp grimaced, “Um, he mighta said it but we were… distracted last night."

Their creation trines downright cackled in amusement.

“Oh, I’d say you were _distracted_,” snickered Gemflight in delight.

“I think he said that it was ‘Star-something,” said Thundercracker, sitting beside Skywarp in Silvertone’s vacated place and wrapping an arm around his waist. “We’ll find out soon, it isn’t too important, we know who he is in our sparks.”

“That’s true,” sighed Sharpedge happily.

“Well, speaking of sparks, I am a fully trained nurse, so want me to work my ‘magic,’ mecha?” grinned Silvertone, pulling a device out of his subspace which made Skywarp intensely confused, because he had never seen it before, but his dominant sire Firesong gasped as if his carrier had done something naughty by possessing it.

“Silver!” protested Firesong.

“What? My boss let me borrow it, she’s as eager to hear whether I’m getting grandcreations as I am!” declared Silverstone, brandishing the device proudly.

_What is that thing?_ asked Skywarp of Thundercracker silently through their trine bond, afraid of looking stupid. Whatever it was, it didn’t look especially pleasant - actually, it looked like some weird sort of rounded taser.

Thundercracker snorted, “It’s a spark scanner, Skywarp. It’s going to tell us whether we’re expecting a litter or not.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Skywarp eagerly, perking up.

“Exactly, and I personally _love_ a good spoiler, so if it’s all the same to you mecha, let’s very, _very_ gently get a better look at our new kinseeker,” beamed Silvertone and Skywarp gingerly helped Thundercracker carefully pull away the blanket, revealing the truly beautiful form of the tricolour seeker to whom they were now mates. Their creators crooned in approval and with great care, Silvertone readied the spark scanner, murmuring, “I warmed it up in my subspace, so hopefully it won’t startle him, the poor sweetspark needs his recharge, especially if he’s sparked.”

“Takes a lot out of a carrier-mech, no matter which way it goes,” sighed Sharpedge in agreement. “Be it trining heat or true heat, it doesn’t matter if the coding gets sated - you’re still slagged for orns afterwards.”

“But in the best way possible,” chirped Silvertone, holding the spark scanner against the tricolour’s crimson chest plating. The device beeped and Silvertone pulled it away, motioning hastily for Skywarp and Thundercracker to recover their new mate. Skywarp watched his carrier anxiously and gripped Thundercracker’s hand, internally refusing to let himself be disappointed -

“Processing, processing -” Silvertone’s optics widened, and he beamed, turning the scanner so that Skywarp and Thundercracker could see it. Thundercracker immediately in-vented harshly, his side of the bond flickering with excitement and Skywarp squinted, then covered his mouth in joyous disbelief.

“Mm, good job, mechs,” grinned Captain Winterdive smugly, “looks like we’re getting a package deal in this trining rather than just one.”

“Four for the price of one,” smirked Gemflight. “A full litter - seems maybe this pretty of yours was holding out for a while too.”

“He was virgin,” admitted Thundercracker, outwardly shaky, yet Skywarp leaned into him for a kiss as he felt their sparks sing with joy together. 

“Primus bless,” said Sharpedge. 

“I can’t wait to tell him!” gasped Skywarp against Thundercracker’s mouth. “I’m so happy! This is the best thing ever!”

“It is,” agreed Thundercracker, kissing him firmly back, claiming him. Their delighted creators left them with promises to contact their new mate’s family for them as soon as they had their designations. Careful not to disturb their precious sparked companion, they celebrated their ascension as a full trine and success at siring in their favourite way, with Skywarp willing on his wings, Thundercracker lovingly pinning him to the floor.

Skywarp doubted that he would ever stop smiling.

* * *

Starscream onlined feeling distinctly like something incredibly profound had taken place.

His entire frame was aching, the lower half of his body pleasantly, (especially weirdly between his legs where it was weirdly sticky,) his helm throbbing far less nicely, and the back of his neck stung, plus there was a decidedly peculiar feeling in his chest as though his spark were bigger than usual, but helpfully he was warm, a thick thermal blanket tucked lovingly around his frame. There was a comforting drone of two voices nearby which should have been strange but weren’t, but Starscream’s helm ached too much to allow him to look, so he didn’t move. He couldn’t recall what the frag had happened to make his processor ache so and he was extremely confused by the chronometer on his HUD when he clumsily called it up, which said that over _three_ orns had passed.

What the frag!

He tried not to groan - he didn’t want to alert whoever the frag it was that he was sharing space with because he was dead certain that he didn’t know them. They didn’t smell like anyone he knew, and he frowned because he wasn’t usually in the business of sniffing people, but for some reason it _mattered_. For some reason… he liked the musky smell that permeated the blankets and pillows around him. It seemed to speak to his addled, throbbing processor of comfort and safety.

But the time and date on his chronometer couldn’t be ignored - if he didn’t leave as fast as possible, he’d have a hyperventilating, paranoid shuttle on his servos. And actually, he probably already had a hyperventilating, paranoid shuttle on his servos because he was pretty sure that Skyfire had expected him home about an orn ago, and there was no way that Skyfire was willing to do something sane, like contact Starscream’s _creators_ (and Starscream couldn’t blame him.) 

And did Starscream’s creators even know where he was?!

Starscream experimentally onlined his optics a sliver and regretted it - the light coming through from wherever outside was was as bright as slag. He internalized his whimper of pain and forced his now aching optics to get used to it so that with as little movement as possible, he could make note of his surroundings. He couldn’t see whoever it was who was nearby but somehow he knew that they were Seeker, which was a relief, because he was not sure how he might have lived with himself if he had gotten wildly drunk then laid by a couple of grounders (as he had been beginning to embarrassingly believe had happened, because whoa his lower abdomen felt… weird? He couldn’t decided whether it was pleasant or not after all in retrospect. He’d never had cause to use his interface array before, and he had stubbornly wanted to avoid that happening because interface was just such a _Seeker_ thing, but it was in the past now, apparently. 

And there was always the attractive option of pretending that it had never happened.)

The nearest wall, now that he could somewhat see properly, was painted a rich indigo that was very dramatic yet restful. The ceiling above was sky blue, which was pretty, and much more appealing than his family’s Primus-awful interior design skills. (There was a room in their eyrie which was brown -_ BROWN!_) The blankets and sheets around him were colourful, thick and warm, of good quality which deeply pleased something in his processor, something which made his spark thrum in approval for so reason that Starscream could understand. The same something made him flex out his claws to feel how plush the nest… his nest… was and -

Skyfire. He needed to get to Skyfire. Whatever the frag had happened here didn’t matter - he’d obviously had some fragging weird bender and it was time to fly home. Thank Primus he had so much energon stored in his subspace - he’d learned a long time ago to keep a supply of it for the express purpose of breaking out of his natal home, since his creators rarely went a decavorn without trying to mechnap him. (“You need to stay in Vos, Star, most carrier-seekers your age are already _carriers._ Your carrier had already had you and Strut by your age.” Ew.)

“…TC, are you sure he’s okay?” one of the other seekers was asking, making Starscream freeze and play dead, just in case either of them were looking his way.

“Yes, Warp, he’s fine, he’s still recharging it off, don’t pester,” said ‘TC.’ “I know it’s hard waiting, but we need to let him rest.”

They were talking about Starscream - they were _definitely_ talking about Starscream!

“I just wonder if he needs my carrier -” mumbled ‘Warp,’ Starscream wondering why the frag he would ever need some stranger’s carrier.

“No, I’m sure he’ll online this orn,” said ‘TC.’ He seemed to think for a klik, “Let’s go for a quick fly.”

“But I don’t wanna leave him!” whined ‘Warp.’ Starscream sighed, for some reason liking their voices, which had a peculiarly soothing quality which just made his spark so happy.

“We’re not leaving him, Skywarp, we won’t even fly out of visual, we’re just stretching our wings and we’ll be back before he can stir - we have to take care of ourselves too, or we won’t be able to protect him,” reasoned ‘TC’ kindly. 

Perfect. This was Starscream’s chance - could be his only chance to avoid whatever weird post one night stand conversation was in store for him otherwise.

“Okay,” ex-vented Skywarp. “Only a bream though!”

“A groon,” corrected ‘TC,’ obviously dominant. Skywarp argued with him for a klik, apparently desperately wanting to be present when Starscream onlined (Starscream thought the mech was way too invested in a one night stand,) but predictably, ‘TC’ won. (Based entirely on his need to frag off elsewhere to Iacon, Starscream liked ‘TC.’)

“Let’s go, Warp,” clicked Thundercracker and Starscream heard the sliding doors open then close. He onlined his optics the second that he heard thrusters fire and lifted his helm in time to glimpse the duo departing. Wary that they might not have been the only mecha there considering how irritatingly social his species was, he peered around urgently, his processor throbbing as he lifted his helm, and slowly sat up as he concluded that he was alone. Scratching the back of his neck where it stung, he stood shakily, collected himself, and peered around even as something within him became disconcerted, as if he wasn’t supposed to be doing what he was doing without someone. Something was wrong, some critical rule was being broken, but he ignored it as he stepped out of the very fluffy, very lovingly constructed nest. (It was much better than what his carrier had.)

Waking his thrusters, he moved cautiously to the sliding doors of the impressive apartment, then froze for some reason, as if he could not step any further without acknowledging his surroundings. The floor under pede was nice light stone - some metamorphic rock which Starscream currently lacked the patience to identify, which was warmed from underneath - there was very nice lighting which wasn’t obnoxious like the lighting in his lab, an extremely intriguing looking wash rack (_no_, he was _not_ going to check that out!) and on one of the walls there were some pictures of seekers whom he had never seen before.

Not quite satisfied, he shook himself and stepped closer to freedom, then stilled, listening - he could still hear thrusters, but they were decently far off. It was going to take all of his speed and stealth to get away. Starscream snuck further out onto the balcony, into the wind which felt much too cold for some reason, ducking behind the railing, wings low to avoid being spotted, and looked around. Spotting nobody immediately close by, he swiftly jumped over the railing then transformed to glide to the ground, having learned a long time ago in Iacon (the land of complainy grounders,) that nothing gave away one’s position better than the deafening shriek of thrusters. Starscream’s pedes touched lightly down and ignoring the profound sense of _wrongness_ growing in his spark, he started walking as if he were off to something mundane to avoid being remarked upon. 

Starscream hated walking, but as long as he was in Vos stealth was of the essence, so he kept at it for over a joor before deciding that he was probably safe to takeoff. Knocking back an energon cube carelessly (and almost gagging because whoa that one had been in his subspace maybe a little too long,) Starscream gratefully took off, the walk having cleared some of the hungover funk from his processor. The feeling of wrongness got stronger, but Starscream ignored it, feeding more fuel to his thrusters to gain altitude, then, once he was at a height which the enforcers below would not complain about, he broke the sound barrier.

* * *

Playing with Thundercracker was fun, but Skywarp couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful young seeker who waited for them back at their nest. The idea that their brand new mate might have onlined without them present to welcome him with as much affection as they could muster in the groon that they had been gone was absolutely painful. Skywarp had never even dared dream that he would be blessed with a carrier-mate, much less newsparks right away, but from the moment that he had entrusted his spark to Thundercracker’s keeping he had dared to. Snuggled beneath the stars with wings overlapping Thundercracker had whispered out his plans, plans which had now come to fruition. 

He was so ecstatic about their newsparks, thinking about how he got to shape them, how one might even have black or purple or silver plating like him - how one might even inherit his spark gift. More than them though he was dying to properly meet their gorgeous new life companion so that he could convince the pretty seeker what a great sire pair they were. Skywarp had seen other trine’s nests, and theirs was definitely superior; he could not wait to see their new mate enjoy it. Thundercracker had promised him that sparked carriers exhibited some very adorable behaviours due to their hormones acting up which he couldn’t wait to watch. There was going to be a lot of snuggling, and purring, and interfacing as they strengthened their new bond, and Skywarp just couldn’t wait!

“TC, it’s been a groon, can we _please_ go back,” pleaded Skywarp as Thundercracker casually cut him off from lurching back towards their beloved new mate. “What if he’s stirring without us there to cuddle him?”

“Alright, Warp, let’s go,” chuckled Thundercracker warmly, banking away, at which Skywarp teleported to catch up with an eager squeal. Skywarp purred as he felt how the distance had been killing Thundercracker a little inside too - their pretty one needed to be immersed in their electromagnetic fields and reassured. He needed spark merging too, to grow the bond, and mating to help him make their newsparks. 

“I can’t wait until we can talk to him and feel him clearly through our bond,” said Skywarp as they alighted on their balcony. He flittered his wings and paused to share an adoring nuzzle with his first mate before trotting back inside, where it was typically quiet. Grinning like mad, Skywarp teleported to the edge of the nest, too impatient to walk, and froze.

In an instance, without Thundercracker coming anywhere near the nest, their joy turned to agonizing distress.

Where was their new love?!

* * *

The flight back to Iacon was more horrible than usual for some reason. For Primus knew _what_ reason, Starscream had kept thinking about the nice comfy nest which he had onlined in, the pretty apartment, and the brief glimpse which he had had of its occupants. Worse, he had had to stop twice for bizarrely lengthy naps, something which he had never had to do before, and he had discovered that he wished that he had found a public wash rack, because apparently he hadn’t bothered to shower following the main event of his one night stand. 

Thus, it took _two fragging orns_ to get back to Iaconian airspace instead of only one, and Starscream was so tired that it was almost painful. Cursing his still obviously inebriated processor (what the _frag_ had those monsters _fed_ him?!) he stumbled into the lobby of his and Skyfire’s apartment building, then had to seriously convince his frame not to pass out in the lift as it rose to the top floors. He staggered out very inelegantly, spent an entire bream trying to remember how his door worked, then collapsed on the floor in the cold entryway of the silent apartment. Deciding that this was probably close enough to his berth, he had blacked out and since Skyfire was apparently out (probably running around screaming his name in a panic,) Starscream onlined to darkness. Cursing time zones, he managed to pick himself up, but only long enough to careen into his berthroom. Barely possessing the strength to tuck himself in, he collapsed, sweet recharge instantly stealing him.

* * *

“STAR!”

Skyfire’s excited shout rudely onlined Starscream, who couldn’t remember why the shuttle had reason to be upset, and attempted to wriggle deeper under his covers accordingly, arms hugging his chest, which felt very strange indeed. It wasn’t an unpleasant strange, or a sick strange, but it kept making him hug himself and purr softly, because for some reason he felt softly frightened, like something very dear to him was missing. He’d dreamed vividly of comforting blue and purple plating, of arms wrapped around him, feeling protected, which he wasn’t anymore, even though Skyfire was plenty big enough to knock out pretty much anyone by accident. (It was really a miracle that he hadn’t.)

“Star, where were you?! I’ve been so worried!” sobbed Skyfire, scooping Starscream up out of his berth, blankets and all and hugging him like a pet turbofox, nuzzling him very wetly. Apparently he really had been crying.

“Ew,” grumbled Starscream, unwilling to online his optics and flopping limp, unwilling to do _anything._

“You have to tell me what happened!” insisted Skyfire, proceeding to haul him to the couch and cocoon Starscream in the blankets within his lap, presumably so that Starscream couldn’t escape. Since Skyfire was warm, familiar and his lap was possibly one of the greatest locations in the known universe, Starscream attempted to pass out.

Skyfire laugh-sobbed, “What is wrong with you? You’re so tired.”

“Flew… allaway from Vosss…” slurred Starscream, nuzzling his face further under the blanket. “Need… needta recharge. Mrf.”

Besides, the benevolent shuttle definitely didn’t need to know about his apparent one night stand. It would make the idiot furious, appalled, and worst of all - _disappointed._ Ugh.

“Did your stupid family keep you there or something?” grimaced Skyfire.

“I… don’ ‘member… probly…” murmured Starscream, adding, because it mattered, “aft helms.”

“They’re so awful,” complained Skyfire, hugging him tighter and planting a kiss on the top of his helm, then gently displacing him on their couch, which being shuttle-scaled, was gigantic. (Although being scaled for shuttles hadn’t stopped their previous couch from dying pathetically beneath the crushing weight of Skyfire’s prodigious aft though.) “Stay there, I’m gonna warm you up some fuel and get you some rust sticks.”

Starscream had no idea why Skyfire felt the need to tell him to stay put, considering how tired he was, but he let his amica take care of him. Skyfire propped him up to give him his hot energon and Starscream fished out a servo from his blanket to take it. It was good stuff, spiced with magnesium shreds with a shot of their favourite cheap high grade and Starscream felt his systems revive a little over it. The rust sticks helped even more, and Starscream almost felt halfway conscious as Skyfire told him about how worried he had been. Since the local law enforcement cared exactly nil about flighted mecha, Skyfire and his creators had searched for him alone. 

Starscream dipped back into unconsciousness when Skyfire called them, and he onlined to disconcertedly bright sunshine, his jet lag back with pounding force. Grumpily, he began attempting to convince the chronometer on his HUD that it was wrong about it being night time and he got distracted by the relieved whisper of Skyfire with his kin in the living room. (It occurred to Starscream that he had been thoughtfully returned to his berth.)

“…I still don’t really know what happened, he was gone for six orns!” Skyfire was complaining stressily. “I think that his awful creators had him, but I haven’t really gotten a clear answer and I suspect something more happened because he is really exhausted - I’ve never seen him so tired, he’s usually bursting with energy!” 

“He is quiet,” noted Hardwing, Skyfire’s bizarrely solitary sire worriedly. “Usually he’d either be trotting out to greet us or grumbling at us to be quiet so that he can work.”

“Poor sweetspark, do you mind if I check on him?” asked Skyfire’s carrier, Bluenose. “Maybe I can get a notion of what’s wrong.”

Starscream snorted internally - Bluenose, who had no scientific medical training whatsoever, had about as much hope of diagnosing him of anything as a turbofox did of spontaneously learning to speak Kaonian.

“I’m sure he’s simply tired, Blue, he is a small mech and that is a long flight,” huffed Hardwing. “Skyfire, isn’t he puny even for a seeker?”

“No, he’s about average,” said Skyfire, chivalrously defending Starscream’s honour, until he added, very unnecessarily, “for a carrier-coded one.”

“I didn’t realize,” said Hardwing in stupid surprise.

Starscream abruptly felt Bluenose’s very large, very friendly presence beside him and he greeted her in the same manner that he had Skyfire the night before, by attempting to hide deeper under his covers.

“Oh, Star, you’re too much,” crooned Bluenose, apparently finding this adorable. “Sweetie, it’s me, can’t you tell me how you’re feeling?”

Frag no. Starscream wanted to sleep, long and cosily, and for an undetermined length of time. Besides… something critical was missing… a smell and a different presence… presence_s_…

An incredibly pathetic whine of protest came unbidden from his vocalizer as Bluenose gently violated his inept hiding place, extracting him with disgusting ease then cradling him in her bizarrely massive arms. He whimpered again, trying to make Bluenose feel guilty so that she would put him down, and it turned into a growl as she proceeded to carry him to the wash rack, crooning, “Now Star, you won’t get over your chronodysphoria if you recharge all the time, so a nice warm shower’ll liven you right up, pretty mech.”

_Primus forbid, no -_

Bluenose was amazingly oblivious to his angry hissing as she squirted soap all over him and started gently washing him under the thankfully warm solvent, probably (at least in some part of her lovingly deluded processor,) believing that he was a shuttle sparkling.

“Carrier -” Skyfire, having just stepped into the wash rack, saw what was happening and winced. There was no way that he could miss that Starscream’s claws were out, but Bluenose seemed oblivious to their existence as she got Starscream all sudsy, then forced him to rinse before bundling him in one of Skyfire’s enormous towels. Somewhat used to Skyfire doing this to him (he was a caring idiot too,) Starscream stopped growling and tolerated being carried back to his berth where his polish sat on his berthside table, only to bemuse his adopted shuttle kin entirely by immediately oozing back beneath his covers.

“That didn’t work,” murmured Bluenose, shocked. “Starscream, what’s up, sweetspark? You love being clean.”

Starscream had no idea what was up, but he didn’t feel like sharing, so he grunted, “Tired.”

“Just let the poor seeker rest,” groaned Hardwing, for once saying something intelligent. “I’m sure that he’ll be his loud little self again within a few joors.”


	3. Starscream, Lord of the Nap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Thundercracker and Skywarp discover some surprising things about Starscream, Starscream discovers some glaring evidence of their tryst.
> 
> Skyfire is unimpressed.

Starscream wasn’t his ‘loud little self again’ within a few joors. It took him three orns before he remotely felt like returning to work and even then he only got about as far as his balcony before skulking back to his berth to snooze some more. He felt completely drained, his spark almost weak, and the only thing which helped was being completely sedentary - he lacked the energy to even scoff at tabloids and dumb scientific papers written by their dumbaft colleagues, which was usually a sacred hobby of his. A worried Skyfire tried to bring him work to do at home, but all Starscream wanted to do was snuggle under his blankets. His ability to regulate his internal temperature, usually so dependable, seemed off too, because he felt cold whenever he left the berth, and he took to whining at Skyfire to bring him energon whenever he was home.

But energon by itself suddenly wasn’t enough, and Starscream, who had always in his professional career as an interstellar explorer prided himself in being a thrifty seeker, found himself constantly raiding the apartment’s snack supply. It was pretty much the only thing which he ever willingly left his berth for, and Skyfire returned from his fourth work orn without Starscream to find him shivering on the chilly kitchenette floor, surrounded by treat wrappers. 

“Are you _sure_ that there is nothing wrong with you?!” Skyfire had worriedly demanded as he had carried Starscream back to his berth. Starscream dragged himself back under his covers and rather than answering Skyfire like an intelligent mech, he hugged himself, purring in a desperate ploy to soothe himself.

“’m fine,” Starscream attempted to insist a few joors later, when Skyfire insisted on checking his temperature. Despite the discomfort of being mechhandled, he couldn’t stop purring - the only time he didn’t purr was when he was shovelling fuel into his face or passed out cold.

“I think you need a medic,” grimaced Skyfire, but there were none in Iacon as far as they knew who treated seekers the way that some were willing to treat shuttles. Shuttles were seen as useful, trustworthy mecha - seekers were seen as promiscuous and dangerous, nasty little creatures. (Starscream didn’t understand the ‘little’ thing because the only mecha which made seekers look small were construction bots, convoys, metrotitans and shuttles.) The medical situation in their city was bad enough that the University of Iacon had contracted a medic from the University of Praxus to outfit Starscream with his space upgrades, but this was personal, and had nothing to do with work.

without being covered in a blanket which scared Starscream the most. What frightened him wasn’t something which he dared mention to Skyfire - the fact that he kept dreaming of sticky heat, passionate wet friction and warm noses in his face as his spark exploded with _love_, feeling _whole._ In his dreams he wasn’t alone but protected and cherished in a manner which was impossible. In his dreams, he flew strong and was caught, his processor flooded with purple and blue, as well as the memory of the perfect nest which he had onlined in in Vos. The place seemed highlighted with promise, his coding whispering that if he could only return there, right what was currently so wrong, everything would be alright again, as though it was the place where some fool imaginary god had deigned that he be.

There would only be good things there, his spark seemed to promise. Good things - proper snuggles, the best energon, and the belonging which he had always unknowingly chased, even in his moments of greatest denial.

The apartment didn’t feel like it was home anymore, but he was too weak to leave.

* * *

Thundercracker alighted tiredly on the balcony of his creators’ home, his frame aching from orns of searching, his spark seeming to scream inside as his repressed sire-coding made him jumpy. Skywarp had attacked him just that morning, rightfully questioning his leadership, and Thundercracker had had to send him to his own creators to calm down once he had gained the upper servo, but his spark ached from his beloved’s loss of faith in him. He needed to regain it - but the only way to do that was to achieve what they had been fruitlessly trying to do for orns, which was find their precious tricoloured mate. 

It had been with thorough embarrassment and shame that he had reported that his just-gained and very sparked carrier-mate was missing; Thundercracker had felt painfully deserving of the look of pure condescension which the enforcer filing his missing mecha report had given him in response. Admitting that he didn’t even properly know his new trinemate’s designation had been especially terrible and since it was impossible that his unnamed mate had left on his own power, everyone had assumed that he had been stolen - until security camera footage had shown an extremely confused, very much still marred from having been trined little tricoloured seeker _walking_ down their street away from their apartment. Distress had been in the seeker’s frame language, his wings canted low in a manner which had cried very blatantly that he was frightened.

Thundercracker had yet to hear an explanation to explain that. Coding was supposed to keep a carrier-seeker put in their nest, especially right after trining. They needed the reassurance of their mates, to be courted and pampered so that they integrated properly into their new home. The trining was supposed to be just the start of the formation of their relationship - the trining secured it, but until courtship was applied afterwards, the bond was only weak. Permanent it was, a seeker property of their trine forever, but in order for them to become a healthy, united trine, a slag ton of mating, snuggling and impressing had to happen. Nobody had any idea why Thundercracker’s new mate had so bizarrely abandoned ship, but at least the enforcers no longer thought that he was inept.

Everyone agreed: there had to be a medical reason for his new mate leaving his nest, which he should have been coded to stay put in, trilling for the devoted attention which Thundercracker and Skywarp longed to shower him with. 

“Thundercracker, good, you’re here,” greeted his dominant sire, Captain Winterdive as he hurried over with Thundercracker’s other sire, Crimsonwing. “As I told you over comm, I managed to get in contact with someone who works at the palace who was involved with the news drones which were in flight during your trining flight and I believe that we’ve identified your mate.”

“Is Skywarp alright?” asked Crimsonwing distractedly as Thundercracker’s spark swelled with a flicker of relief that their horrific ordeal might be close to ending.

“Yeah, but we had a fight this morning, I think the stress is getting to him,” grimaced Thundercracker. “I sent him home to his carrier for a break. What did your contact say?”

“Well, turns out you caught a better score than we thought - your new mate is related to Winglord Mercury,” grinned Captain Winterdive.

“What?!” spluttered Thundercracker, taken aback.

“Yeah, the palace tagged him the klik that he took to the air as one of their own. Apparently all royal seekers are chipped as soon as they can fly with short range tracking markers so that they can be found more easily,” laughed Captain Winterdive. “Your catch is actually major nobility - he’s the first creation of Lord Professor Killjoy, who estranged himself from the Royal Family three centravorns ago after he had a spat with his older sister - the Winglord.”

Thundercracker gaped at him, “My new trinemate is a _lord?”_

“Thundercracker,” snickered Crimsonwing, “your new trinemate is a _prince.”_

“A lesser prince, but still a prince,” chuckled Captain Winterdive, “and his full designation is Prince Starscream of Vos.”

“No wonder he flew so well,” spluttered Thundercracker in amazement.

“No kidding - my contact said that nobody in the palace was surprised at all,” said Captain Winterdive. “Because of the estrangement the royals have had to keep their distance from Starscream, especially because his non-royal grandsire Farfire isn’t the most friendly mech apparently, but they’ve still managed to clock his speed. Your trinemate is currently the fastest seeker alive.”

“No wonder nobody before you and Warp could catch him, eh?” grinned Crimsonwing as Thundercracker’s jaw dropped. “You got yourself one prestigious little mate in that flight. Winter, tell him what else!”

“When my contact realized that I was asking about Prince Starscream, that he was missing, he sent a message to your mate’s royal grandsire Lord Daggerpoint, who wants to meet with us later this orn,” said Captain Winterdive. “Seems that now that Prince Starscream’s custody has been removed from Lord Professor Killjoy with your trining, the Royal Family wants to get their servos on your mate. My contact said that he’s worth a lot of shanix, especially with his carrier coding, and that the royals were pleased with your work at catching him. He said that they’ve been waiting an extremely long time to watch that seeker fly in heat for a trine.”

Thundercracker’s shock finally faded into joy, “So what does this make Warp and I?”

“Well, it sounds like if we can find your prince then you two will be lords, as will your seekerlings, and you should know that your new mate is fourth in line for the throne of Vos,” beamed Captain Winterdive. “You caught a royal, Thundercracker.”

“Let’s go get Skywarp,” grinned Crimsonwing. “Lord Daggerpoint wants to meet both of you.”

* * *

“Hey, Star, are you alright? I’ve never heard you make that sound before,” said Skyfire, peering worriedly into Starscream’s room. Starscream went belligerently silent, everything within him telling him that Skyfire was incapable of understanding. The shuttle frowned, “I wish you’d talk to me more. I think I’m getting close to finding a medic for you though.”

Starscream didn’t reply, wanting the shuttle to slag off, because he wasn’t who Starscream needed - Starscream didn’t know who it was that he needed, but it certainly fragging wasn’t Skyfire.

He trilled again. From inane purring, he’d suddenly found himself needing to trill, only it wasn’t the platonic trill of his youth which had once called his doting carrier to his side - it was a much more panicked sound which was entirely adult, which exactly matched the gradually rising fear in his empty spark. _Where was…?!_

He knew that he was calling to somebody now, but he refused to admit that he already knew who, because it devastated him that they couldn’t hear him, that he was too far away for them to help.

“I’m calling Brainstorm, he’s gotta know someone,” groaned Skyfire, getting desperate and clearly unable to concentrate. He crouched beside Starscream and started to rub his back soothingly, whispering, “We can’t go on like this, can we?”

* * *

“Lord Daggerpoint, this is Prince Starscream’s new trine along with the dominant mate’s sires, as promised,” announced the officious looking royal aide, Skywarp gaping as a very intimidating dark red, charcoal and black seeker with extremely royal markings smiled at them. He looked intensely scary, his sharp gaze seeming to laser through Skywarp to his spark, to the point where Skywarp felt stupid just standing in his presence. What was this important mech, his new mate’s apparent _grandsire_, going to say when he found out that they’d lost his apparently hyper-valuable grandcreation within three orns of trining him?!

“My greetings and welcome to our family, Lord Corporal Thundercracker, Lord Skywarp,” said Lord Daggerpoint graciously. “I want to congratulate you on catching our seeker - we were quite concerned that nobody would. Starscream wasn’t just blessed with his sire Killjoy’s speed - he rivals it, and we have yet to get a top speed on him because every time we manage to clock him the little minx has outdone his previous time.”

Skywarp glanced at Thundercracker, checking to see whether his first mate was as blown away as he was.

“Sir, it helps a great deal that Skywarp can teleport,” said Thundercracker bravely, the quivering of his wingtips the only sign that he was as anxious as Skywarp was. “I just… coordinated accordingly.”

“And you did a very good job - of course that is expected, of someone produced by a good army family,” said Lord Daggerpoint approvingly, with an acknowledging nod to Thundercracker’s sires. “I’m frankly impressed by your pedigree, for a commoner, and I’m happy to have you in my family, however I hear that we may have come to a problem.”

“Yes,” agreed Thundercracker, with distinct unease. “Prince Starscream is missing.”

“The information which I was forwarded claimed that he walked out while you took a short break from your nest to fly?” asked Lord Daggerpoint.

“Yes, it was the third orn of his recharging after our trining and Skywarp was getting fidgetty, so I thought a fly would help us keep our focus,” said Thundercracker.

“Congratulations on sparking him, although when he returns to our custody we will be confirming that,” said Lord Daggerpoint, “as well as taking over his medical care from whoever has handled it previously. Don’t misunderstand me, Lord Thundercracker; Prince Starscream is yours in trine, but as a royal, he’s also the sovereign property of Vos. We love him, even if thanks to his irritable sire we’ve never been able to actually handle him before. Your mate is very important to us.”

The royal lord grimaced, “Which brings us to an issue which I’m afraid that we’re going to have to work together on, my young lords - my creation Lord Professor Killjoy has renounced all ties to our family, and refuses to talk to us. However, he doesn’t know you, and his carrier-mate Comet is very amiable - it’s only through her that we’ve been able to chip all of her mechling young, including Starscream. Killjoy’s spite reaches so far that he has had a private practice handle all of his creations’ adult upgrades. While we have managed to acquire the health records from that medic with Comet’s help, Starscream’s records stop not long after he upgraded.”

“What does that mean, sir?” asked Skywarp warily, praying that he didn’t sound dumb. Thundercracker squeezed his servo supportively.

“It means that Starscream hasn’t been living in Vos,” said Lord Daggerpoint, “and thanks to Killjoy, we don’t know where it is that he does - Killjoy refuses to let any of his kinseekers speak of it. I had crews out this morning as soon as I was informed of Starscream’s missing status scanning for his tracking chip, but as thorough as they were, they failed to catch his signal. Since we know for a fact thanks to your trining flight that his chip is working, if he were in Vos we would have found him by now.”

“But he’s not in Vos,” stated Thundercracker, his horror equal to Skywarp’s in the bond. “Can’t the chip identify where he is on Cybertron?”

“As powerful as the chips we use are, they only have a range of ten thousand hics,” said Lord Daggerpoint. “If he were anywhere in Vos, we’d know, but elsewhere? No.”

“If Killjoy is estranged from you, is Prince Starscream?” asked Skywarp.

Lord Daggerpoint growled irritably, “Prince Starscream, according to Comet, doesn’t even know that he is related to us. The only reason he even knows that we exist is through the news and tabloids, the same as any common seeker. We had planned to try to contact him once he was an adult, but he left Vos almost immediately. Our sentinels believe that he doesn’t get along very well with Killjoy, which is promising at least, but since he is an important member of the line of succession, we need to influence him, so that if Primus forbid he ever does have to lead our country, he knows how.”

“We also need to brand his wing, so that incidents like this don’t crop up again - if he had had his wing brand then he would not have managed to wander so far away from his nest. An enforcer or one of our sentinels would have remarked about him behaving oddly and brought him in, at which point we would have been able to treat him and return him to your keeping right away,” said Lord Daggerpoint. His wings gave an agitated jerk, “In any case, I’ve alerted all of our embassies in other countries to be on the lookout for him. Seeing as they have been trying to do that for vorns, however, I do need you to speak to Killjoy - but take care, my young lords, and don’t let him catch scent that you’re acquainted with me.”

“If we can get this information…?” asked Thundercracker.

“We will have a sentinel waiting to contact you upon your departure from Killjoy’s airspace,” said Lord Daggerpoint.

“Um, how do we explain to Prince Starscream’s family how we found out about them without giving away that you told us?” asked Skywarp uneasily.

“Starscream’s common sire Missilefire is military,” stated Lord Daggerpoint. He nodded to Thundercracker’s sires, “Just tell him that Lord Thundercracker’s sires asked around - from what I have been informed, Captain Winterdive has a very good reputation amongst our nation’s troops. If Killjoy has any sense left to him, he’ll be pleased that his creation’s new trine has a mech in it from such a trusted lineage. I’d advise that Captain Winterdive and Corporal Crimsonwing go with you - it’ll back up the claim. Additionally, I’m sure that the captain and his corporal are just as impatient as we are to have our prince returned to us…?”

“Absolutely, Lord Daggerpoint,” said Captain Winterdive firmly. “We are very honoured that our creation has trined Prince Starscream, and we know that Skywarp’s creation trine will be delighted as well.”

“Having a trinemate from a hardworking civilian trine may help Starscream greatly, should he ever need to rule,” smiled Lord Daggerpoint at Skywarp. “Go now - my aide will give you the address to Killjoy’s eyrie, and additionally his office at the University of Vos. Hopefully soon we’ll be able to celebrate your trining properly, and perhaps congratulate you about those newsparks.”

Skywarp ex-vented in relief - there was hope again now and all they had to do was talk to a grumpy lord professor, then they would have their trinemate back.

* * *

“Nooo, I don’t wanna,” complained Starscream, sobbing pathetically as Skyfire wrapped him in another blanket, then picked him up.

“It’s going to be okay, Star, Brainstorm put me in contact with a medic who’ll help - he’s even in Iacon,” said Skyfire. “I have a box of rust sticks for you if you get hungry on the journey, so you’ll be okay.”

Since Starscream was too weak to fly and too large for Skyfire to carry without being in his alt mode, ‘the journey’ was an insulting, degrading epic through Iacon’s despise-worthy public transit system. Since Starscream’s current exercise levels consisted of flopping out of berth to ravenously raid their treat supply, Skyfire understandably had low hopes of Starscream willingly entering his cargo hold on his own. Thus, it was transit, with all manner of grounders staring at them, and Skyfire endeavouring to hide what Starscream was with the blankets to spare him the nasty mutters that as flight frames they _didn’t belong there._

Normally Starscream would have cut a “Frag off!” and swiped at any offending idiot dumb enough to step close to them, but he was too tired, yet too anxious to sleep, feeling distinctly like he was in danger away from the warm safety of the apartment. The apartment wasn’t as good as where he was supposed to be, but it didn’t have any grounders infesting it like the train did, nor was it a claustrophobic space. Skyfire muttered reassurances to him the whole way, until they stepped off at their apparent stop which was at Iacon City Centre Station. Tall, hopelessly ugly (compared to Vos,) buildings soared above them, and Starscream hissed weakly when he saw a couple of enforcers patrolling, but Skyfire kept stubbornly walking as if wearing an invisible shield against the glares.

It was with obvious relief that they reached the building that they needed, Skyfire double checking the address then ducking through the doors and into a lift. Down a hallway, then through another door, into a waiting room which was unpromisingly populated by grounders, but Skyfire boldly walked across it anyway to the bored looking mech at reception.

“Hello, I’m Professor Skyfire of Iacon, I made an appointment for fifteenth joor with Medic Ratchet for my partner here, Professor Starscream of Vos,” said Skyfire. Starscream, expecting rejection, shuddered in revulsion at all the time and energy wasted, knowing that the fragger was going to reject him, because that was pretty much what all grounders did (except lovable weirdos like their boss Dean Flashpoint, who liked bragging about them at every university function that they went to.) 

The receptionist mech peered at him, “You’re right on time - what are his symptoms? He’s Seeker? Full?”

“Full Seeker,” confirmed Skyfire anxiously, his frame shuddering. “He’s been exhausted ever since he got back from Vos about a decaorn ago to the point where he hasn’t been able to attend work and he hasn’t flown. He’s also hungry constantly, he’s always cold like he can’t regulate his frame temperature anymore and he’s acting weird.”

“He’s cognizant?” frowned the receptionist, Starscream staring at him in disbelief because the grounder actually seemed concerned for his wellbeing.

“Sort of? He’s definitely not himself and it’s really noticeable because we live together as well as work, we’re amica endura,” explained Skyfire. “Please, I was told your medic was willing to treat seekers -”

“You don’t need to plead, Professor Skyfire, Ratchet’ll treat anyone who is in need, and honestly your amica will make his work orn less boring,” smiled the receptionist. He lowered his voice to a conspiring whisper, “Of course, I only tell you that because you’re fellow scientists.”

Did Skyfire grin? He did, fragger!

“We understand, don’t we, Star?” murmured Skyfire.

Starscream scowled at him and attempted to pull more of the blanket over his helm, annoyed by everyone watching him.

“It’ll just be a moment,” promised the receptionist kindly. He made as if to shoo them to some chairs in the waiting room, then he seemed to decide otherwise, getting up from his desk and walking out, “Actually, come with me, I think you’ll wait more comfortably away from this public room.”

“Thank you,” ex-vented Skyfire earnestly. “It was a really hard trip coming here by transit instead of flying, but Star couldn’t manage it our normal way.”

“I understand,” said the grounder, actually sounding pitying. “That can’t have been pleasant.” He opened a door and let them into an exam room, dictating, “He can stay in his blankets while you wait but Ratchet’ll want a good look at all of him to determine what’s wrong.”

“Thank you, we really appreciate it, sir,” said Skyfire graciously, taking a seat and hugging Starscream against his chest, nuzzling him affectionately as the door closed. Alone, and no longer surrounded by grounders, Starscream trilled nervously, Skyfire sighing, “Still making that call, huh? You’re okay now, Star, I’ve got you. Ratchet’ll tell us what’s wrong, Brainstorm said he was a really good medic for a grounder.”

At the word ‘grounder’ Starscream trilled a bit more frantically, then hissed as their exam room was abruptly invaded by a red and white Praxian-looking mech who snorted, “Well, your frame type is certainly confirmed, grumpy.”

“Star!” protested Skyfire. “I’m so sorry, he’s really not feeling well.”

“Calm down, shuttle, I’m not sure if I have ever met a seeker who _hasn’t_ hissed at me, it’s just what they do,” grunted the mech, obviously the medic. “I’m Ratchet; can…” the medic checked the datapad in his servo, “…Professor Starscream sit on my exam table, please?”

Skyfire proceeded to displease Starscream by taking his blankets away, and nudging him towards the table, where Starscream was immediately too cold to sit normally, doubling over with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. The medic stepped close and Starscream shivered, his wings quaking uncontrollably as the grounder checked his optics, then the rest of him, finally demanding of Skyfire, “Alright, I can’t watch him shiver anymore, give him back one of those blankets.”

Mercifully donned in some insulation again, even if it was not nearly enough, Starscream grimaced and resumed hugging himself.

“Arms away from your chest for a klik, Starscream,” ordered Ratchet, and Starscream endured being scanned. The medic frowned and exchanged the first scanner for a different one which he warmed in his servo for a klik before pressing against Starscream’s frame, peering at the screen of his datapad. Starscream couldn’t see what was on it, and he didn’t care.

“First Aid said that your shuttle amica said that you returned from Vos feeling like this?” asked Ratchet.

“Yes,” said Starscream softly.

Ratchet ex-vented hard, “Do you remember what _happened_ to you in Vos?”

Starscream slowly met the medic’s condemning gaze, confused, and Skyfire sat up eagerly. “…no. My creators called me home for something, but I don’t remember what it was. All I know for sure is that I got overcharged.”

“You certainly did if you can’t remember,” snorted Ratchet. “Do you… recall onlining anywhere strange?”

Starscream flushed and refused to look at Skyfire. “I was in some apartment I’d never been to.”

“Okay,” accepted Ratchet as Skyfire’s optics bugged. “Well, I’m confused why you have so much memory loss regarding whatever happened there, so was there anything else you took? A drug?”

Skyfire looked ready to explode with indignation as Starscream unsubspaced the box of contraceptives and handed them to Ratchet, who stared at it, finally grumbling, “…you know that these _aren’t_ meant for seekers?”

“Where the frag am I supposed to find ones for seekers in this city?” demanded Starscream grumpily.

“In your own city?” pointed out Ratchet.

“They don’t sell that slag there!” snapped Starscream. “It’s fragging illegal!”

“Alright, new question,” said Ratchet, rolling his optics. Starscream fumed; he’d never experienced so much pure sass from a medic before. “Are you trined?”

“No,” said Skyfire instantly.

“I asked Starscream,” said Ratchet.

“No!” snapped Starscream. “I never want a trine, trines are awful!”

“Well then,” said Ratchet, “explain to me, then, since you’re a professor, why you have active creation protocols running, why your spark is inflamed and why it looks like you brought home three souvenirs from Vos.”

“Three _what?!”_ squawked Starscream, and Ratchet offered him his datapad, which he snatched from the medic’s servos, flaring his wings in horrified disbelief as he saw something completely impossible - his spark had company. Three tiny snippets of energy were clustered together in tight orbit around his spark and he spluttered as his very scientific processor confirmed without a doubt what they were. 

“W-what’s going on?!” asked Skyfire, sounding very worried. “Did you say that Starscream brought home _souvenirs?!”_

Ratchet ignored Skyfire and patted Starscream’s wing, “Congratulations, Professor, on your trining. I suggest you go home to Vos now so that your conjunxes - whom I am certain are losing their processors with worry - can take care of you properly.”

“His _what?!”_ shrieked Skyfire.

“I-I don’t have conjunxes, I think I’d remember_ trining,_” spluttered Starscream desperately, still gaping at the scan image of his spark’s minute company and internally questioning why instead of disgusted he felt completely endeared - as well as possessive.

“Well, thanks to your act of taking a contraceptive which wasn’t designed for you - which didn’t work, by the way - then drinking high grade (which the box specifically says you should not drink while on the contraceptive,) it seems that your processor glitched, so I’m not surprised that you can’t recall the most important night of your life,” condemned Ratchet.

“But -! But I took that slag so that the fraggers wouldn’t smell me!” cried Starscream.

“Obviously they could, and obviously they liked what they saw since they blessed you with their spawn,” snorted Ratchet. “Go home, idiot. Vos has the best healthcare for seekers anyway.”

“But I don’t know who they are!” protested Starscream, his cheeks burning as Skyfire gaped at him. “I can’t go back to Vos, I can’t go _live_ in Vos, my career is here! Skyfire is here!”

“Skyfire can visit you, his wings look functional enough,” shrugged Ratchet, “but on the career front, considering that you’re now part of a trine, I think you’re automatically outvoted on where you get to live and work.”

“Star can’t go back to Vos,” growled Skyfire, rushing to Starscream’s side and hugging him. “Ratchet, he has to stay here.”

“Well, if you intend to keep him here - and I would seriously caution you _not_ to and to think of the newsparks, which need their sires as much as Starscream does - then you’re going to have to change some things,” said Ratchet and he began rattling off a formidable list of prescriptions, which ranged from an antidepressant (“it’s the strongest one that I can give you without it harming the bitlets,”) to heavily supplemented fuel which could only be brought in from Vos, which also happened to be extremely expensive to import due to racist anti-flight frame laws.

Skyfire didn’t even hesitate, “Where can I order some? Star’s staying here in Iacon, it’s where his life is, and a one night stand hardly qualifies as a relationship.”

Ratchet almost looked outraged, “Shuttle, do you not understand what I am telling you? Your amica is _Seeker_; seekers are a very special frame type, they are _extremely_ instinctual, extremely _social_, and like it or not, your amica is _trined_ now and belongs with two _other_ seekers, whom he needs not only for his happiness, but for the wellbeing of his spark, not to mention his unborn sparklings who require their sires’ influence. Seekers mate for life, you know - there’s no such thing as divorce with them!”

“I’m going to take good care of Star,” said Skyfire defiantly, wrapping Starscream in his other blanket. “Him and his little ones will be just fine here in Iacon with me, we do everything together. Is there anything else he needs?”

“His_ trine_,” growled Ratchet as Skyfire picked Starscream up and hugged him, handing Ratchet back the datapad. Starscream hissed anxiously and tried to reach for it again, not done staring at his newsparks. Ratchet glared at Skyfire and hit a button on his datapad screen, at which an image capture printed out from a small printer on the counter, which he wrote something on the back of before handing to Starscream. 

Starscream seized it needily, and Ratchet gave Skyfire a written prescription for him, snapping, “If you really care about him, you’ll arrange passage and escort him back to his creators in Vos. From there I’m sure that they can reunite him with his trine using the local authorities as I’m certain that given the progress of his newsparks that he has been reported missing by now. Since you do insist on keeping him here, I insist that you bring him back in another decaorn so that I can check on him - if you fail to, I_ will_ make a home visit.”

“Thank you, medic, we’ll keep that in mind,” said Skyfire coldly, and Starscream endured the second horrible trip on the train back to their neighbourhood, then the exhausting rigamarole of their local pharmacy, where the mecha filling his prescriptions were the definition of incompetent. Finally Skyfire brought Starscream home and Starscream was so tired that he almost couldn’t eat, but the pain in his empty fuel tank made him persevere. Skyfire bundled him back to his berth following his success at this, lamenting how it would be a couple of orns before Starscream’s new carrier-grade energon showed up and to Starscream’s relief the shuttle left, voicing that he needed a fly to clear his processor. Shivering in discomfort, Starscream burrowed himself at the foot of his berth where the insulation was thickest and shakily withdrew the image capture which Ratchet had given him from where he had stowed it in his subspace to keep it safe. 

He gazed at the capture of his newsparks and silently admitted that he was fond as a dumb purr rattled from his vocalizer. A tear ran hotly down his cheek as he contemplated what the tiny lives inside of him meant, that all the pathetic trilling he’d been doing had been to call his newsparks’ sires in to rescue him, but the fraggers couldn’t hear him, all the way in Vos on the other side of Cybertron. He searched his processor, desperate for any full inkling of what they looked like, but he had nothing except for a dark blur of purple and blue. Somehow, they had trined him, taken him in what in Vos passed for holy matrimony, and he didn’t even remember what their designations were. Did they know his? Didn’t they care that he was gone? Maybe they’d gotten wind of what a terrible catch he was from his fragging creators, and had changed their minds. Maybe they didn’t want their newsparks, and he was better off where he was, in Skyfire’s inept care.

Starscream tried to resign himself to stop trilling. There was no way that his trinemates would ever find him in Iacon, and it was impossible for him to get home without help. Remembering that Ratchet had written something on the back of the image capture, he turned it over, then saw a comm frequency number, and the doctor’s untidy scrawl:

_Vosian Royal Embassy in Iacon. Call them._

But he couldn’t. Skyfire had already spent too much shanix on his welfare. 

Starscream wrapped his arms and wings around himself and purred, desperate to soothe his aching, lonely, swollen mother spark with its three very delicate companions.


	4. Lord Professor Killjoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thundercracker and Skywarp meet the in-laws.

Thundercracker’s carrier Sharpedge was the toughest, bossiest seeker that Thundercracker had ever met; he had never seen her take no for an answer, and despite his sires being in the military, she was clearly the dominant seeker in his natal family. She had the power to cow the most annoying of mechlings, prevent Thundercracker’s uncle Springjump from stealing energon treats and make Skywarp listen when he was being a hyperactive little glitch (a feat which Thundercracker had yet to manage, despite having been mated with Skywarp for just over a decavorn.) Despite Skywarp being an irrepressible goofball, Sharpedge had been the one to inform Thundercracker that he needed to trine him, because according to her he had been highly unlikely to find a sweeter trinemate, and quote, “Can you imagine that spark sigma of his in a military seeker?”

Thundercracker had ignored the latter and had trined Skywarp because his snuggles were the best. (He was also cute as slag, beautiful, caring, playful, and really, really good in berth.)

Thus, Thundercracker never questioned his sires’ insistence that they bring Sharpedge to meet Starscream’s natal family, because it was obvious that if anyone was going to befriend the apparent aft helms who had raised their lovely new mate, it was probably her (or Skywarp.) They spent several joors discussing the mission in the eyrie and in the end, they decided to be as truthful as possible without giving the royals away and to bring high grade, because booze helped in almost every situation imaginable (at least according to Springjump. Skywarp’s sire Firesong agreed, but that didn’t mean much, considering that she was almost as much of an idiot as Skywarp was.)

Praying to any deity that would listen that their operation would be a success, that it would lead to Thundercracker and Skywarp cuddling with Starscream as fast as possible, they flew to the opulent neighbourhood where their new mate had apparently grown up. Fortunately, it wasn’t as faint-inducingly rich as the palace had been (Skywarp had strained his neck a little in there, staring at the truly vast amounts of real gold trim and classical Vosian paintings,) but it was still intimidating wealthy. Distancing himself from the Royal Family and renouncing his spot in the line of succession clearly had not hurt Killjoy at all - Thundercracker doubted that the place was the original site of Missilefire’s natal eyrie. They surveyed it from a distance for half a joor before Captain Winterdive decided that it was safe, and then they took to the air, Thundercracker in the lead with Skywarp, their plating resplendent for the best first impression possible.

“Hello!” hailed Thundercracker cheerily as they got within range. “Is Professor Killjoy home? Or Comet or Lieutenant Missilefire?”

Several seekers who were lounging on the huge wide open top floor of the eyrie looked sharply around at him, a femme with red markings snapping, “Who’s asking?”

“May we land?” requested Thundercracker. “My designation is Corporal Thundercracker; my trinemate is Skywarp and the trine behind us are my creators.”

“And we should care why -” growled the red marked femme.

“Ohh!” cried a very pretty turquoise femme, abruptly standing up to a chorus of protesting seekerling squeaks which Thundercracker heard even from where he was on his glide path. “Are you Star’s trine? Redlight, these are the mecha who caught him! I recognize them from that the trining flight! Yes, yes, please land!”

Somewhat against his better judgement given the scowls all around, Thundercracker transformed and bravely landed, Skywarp close beside him. Skywarp felt terrified in their bond and his forced smile was quite shaky (Thundercracker could feel the _whereisourtrinemate-!_ nearly bursting out of his mate’s vocalizer,) so he tried to deflect attention from him by trying to look as genuinely gracious as possible as the turquoise seeker hurried over.

One of Starscream’s relatives, a very proud looking, scowling black and red mech who looked a lot like Starscream, ruined that instantly, snapping, “If you’re my creation’s trine then where the frag is he?”

Thundercracker decided that this was Killjoy.

A grey mech laying on his back upon a very ritzy lounge snorted, “Typical. Ruins everything, doesn’t he? Even his own damned trine.”

Thundercracker pretended not to see Skywarp’s indignant glance, swallowing, “We are actually hoping for your help with that.”

“Nope,” yawned a black and blue mech.

“What did my creation do? Wander away? Killjoy, I knew that we should have confiscated his subspace articles,” growled a very large green mech. “Idiot was probably too overcharged to remember, I _told_ you that I saw him drinking.”

“Why would he inebriate himself before a trining flight?” asked Thundercracker, shocked.

“Because my brother didn’t wanna fly in the first place, and our creators made him,” snickered the lazy grey mech. “Idiot needed to get on with his life and stop playing games - guess he’s still playing pretend. ‘Ignore it and it never happened,’ ha!”

Thundercracker was rapidly disliking Starscream’s family. So was Skywarp.

“Can you give us some idea where he might have gone?” asked Skywarp hopefully, wings fidgeting.

“No,” growled Killjoy, crouching beside the turquoise femme who had settled back in her nest at his warning glare and grabbing her wings in an unpleasantly possessive manner. “If you can’t fragging keep my creation where he belongs then you clearly don’t deserve him. Nobody here will tell you anything, so don’t even try pleading like a weak little dumbaft - you’re clearly both inept. It’s not _that_ hard to keep a carrier in their nest!”

Thundercracker wondered angrily whether Killjoy was demonstrating how one was supposed to treat their carrier-mate as the femme, obviously Starscream’s carrier Comet, looked at him helplessly, her joyful smile at meeting them gone.

Skywarp abruptly lost both his composure and his patience, snapping, “Tell us where he is! He’s carrying our litter, don’t you care at all about him?”

Thundercracker flinched, and the entire place went as silent as the Pit, Killjoy and Missilefire’s faces working with rage while Comet’s servos flew to her mouth, her wings jerking skyward. Finally, Killjoy growled and let go of her, Comet protesting, “Killjoy - please, think of Star -”

“You ingrates have _no_ right to imply that we don’t care about _our_ creation - you don’t even know him!” snarled Killjoy into their faces. “You are clearly unworthy of him, newsparks or not - I _doubt_ that they exist - and you will find no information here. My creation is obviously better off without you if you can’t even keep him home, and I would appreciate your immediate departure from mine!”

“And tell Lord Daggerpoint that he can go frag himself,” snapped Missilefire, also stalking over. Thundercracker backed away, shocked, and he hugged Skywarp against his side as his trinemate sobbed in horror. Behind them, his creation trine took off with an angry hiss, signalling that it was time to leave.

“Well? Get off our property!” snapped Killjoy, pointing at the sky.

Thundercracker gave him the filthiest look that he could muster, growling, “Our mate is well clear of you - please do not expect us to allow you time with him or our litter.”

“Keep imagining things, idiot, because you’re never finding him!” frothed Killjoy and at his lunge Skywarp panicked, Thundercracker blinking as he found them standing alone in the silent peace of their apartment. Skywarp broke down, bawling into his shoulder, and Thundercracker held him, attempting to be strong, but the emptiness of their home reminded him that their dear little mate was missing.

They were still crying when Thundercracker’s creators arrived to comfort them.

* * *

Thundercracker’s creators had left and they had just finished spark merging in their nest when Skywarp heard thrusters. Thundercracker, still love-dazed from their merge, didn’t move, Skywarp feeling his miserable hope that whoever it was, wasn’t looking for them. Skywarp was in misery too, but his patience fuse was shorter, and if Starscream’s creators were going to be uncaring slagheaps, then they were going to regret it, as far as Skywarp was concerned. It was beyond his comprehension how anyone could be so cruel as to reject someone asking for help, especially when the mech they were trying to save was their own presumably-loved creation. (Except Starscream hadn’t seemed loved to him at all - instead, he had seemed _martyred_. It the most thoroughly wrong thing that Skywarp had ever encountered - had he been missing and Thundercracker came to his family asking for help in finding him, his family would have dropped everything to help Thundercracker recover him.)

Skywarp nuzzled his exhausted mate with a chirp and dragged himself out from under the bigger seeker, who made a vague attempt at keeping him pinned beneath him which Skywarp thwarted by teleporting to just outside their doors, where a very brightly coloured trine had landed. He unlocked the doors, pulling them open with, “Are you the royal sentinels Lord Daggerpoint said would come find us?”

“Yes,” said the bright green leader. “I’m Acid Storm, this is Nova Storm and Ion Storm.” 

“Sweet, come in,” urged Skywarp as in the nest, Thundercracker groaned incoherently. Skywarp trilled at his mate and led the trine over to their solitary lounge, chirping, “You can sit here. Thundercracker’ll be over in a klik.”

_ Skywarp, who is it?_ moaned Thundercracker over the bond.

_The sentinels, you handsome heap of scrap,_ replied Skywarp.

Thundercracker joined them rather hastily.

“I’m assuming that you weren’t successful in getting the intel out of Killjoy?” asked Acid Storm.

“No,” grimaced Thundercracker, “they were… extremely unhelpful and unsympathetic. They seemed to believe that because Prince Starscream left his nest that we don’t deserve him, even though I was told that the only time a seeker can break that coding is if something medical is happening.”

Acid Storm curled his lip, “Typical Killjoy - he thinks everyone is beneath him, and while he claims to care deeply for his offspring, I’ve yet to see Prince Starscream give us any sign that this is the case.”

“Do you know Starscream?” asked Skywarp hopefully.

“Only through watching him,” said Acid Storm. “We’ve been in charge of surveillance on them since Killjoy abandoned the Royal Family. We’re the ones who usually record Prince Starscream’s speed records, and almost every time we get to do that he’s bolting away from his eyrie, usually with Killjoy in hot pursuit yelling at him. Lately the only times we’ve seen him enter the family’s territory is with a bunch of his kinseekers bullying him in, making sure he doesn’t deviate somewhere else. Each time we’ve wanted to dash in and grab him, rescue him, but we can’t blow our cover. Besides that, the only seeker in that family who is friendly, Prince Starscream’s carrier Lord Comet, is wonderful, and when the prince was younger we didn’t want to cut him off from her. Lord Daggerpoint didn’t want him losing her influence; she’s one of the best carriers in Vos.”

“It’s just too bad that her seekerlings are sired by Lord Professor Killjoy and Lord Lieutenant Missilefire,” huffed Acid Storm’s yellow trinemate. 

“Don’t speak ill of them, Nova Storm,” warned Acid Storm, “Killjoy has the best genetics in Vos. _He_ might be awful, but his young are not, especially Prince Starscream, who is the most promising of the bunch.”

“What’s promising about him?” asked Skywarp.

Acid Storm smiled fondly, “Lord Daggerpoint didn’t tell you? Prince Starscream’s extremely intelligent - according to the test copies which Comet managed to forward to us, he’s actually smarter than his sire Killjoy is, and Killjoy’s one of the smartest seekers in Vos. He’s on a genius level of clever, so he should have gone through into the University of Vos, but for some reason he didn’t - instead he disappeared. He should have become one if Vos’ greatest minds, but something, probably his sires, drove him elsewhere.”

_Our little ones are gonna be really smart, TC,_ realized Skywarp.

_They’ll get their smarts from all of us,_ said Thundercracker. “We really need to find him - he’s sparked with our litter, Acid Storm.”

“We of course, agree, litter or not,” said Acid Storm.

“Although congratulations, if that’s true,” smiled Ion Storm.

“It is true - Skywarp’s carrier is a medic’s nurse and she scanned him while he was still here,” said Thundercracker. 

“Regardless, this foolishness with Prince Starscream has gone on long enough, especially now with his life potentially in danger,” declared Acid Storm. “Since I’m assuming that you’re going to help us, we’re going to start scanning for his tracking chip in other cities. While before the Royal Family was content with the fact that Starscream always returned every vorn or so to Vos, proving his continued survival, Winglord Mercury has now ruled that he absolutely must be brought home. His living outside of Vos is to no longer be tolerated and with him trined to you, that shouldn’t be a problem anymore.”

There was no discussion between them. None was needed, Thundercracker declaring, “We must find him, this has gone on too long for us as well. We need to be able to bond with him properly and influence our newsparks. The sire-coding… it isn’t fun when it’s repressed. Our trine’s always been amiable, but it’s made us both more aggressive with each other and I don’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t either,” Acid Storm assured him, “and if you do have active sire-coding running, then it’s only going to get worse the longer that you’re separated from the prince. Is there anything you need here? We need to leave immediately - we’re going to start with the most flier-friendly nations, beginning with Praxus. This might take a while, but provided that Prince Starscream stays wherever he is the way that we suspect that he usually does, we’ll find him.”

“I hope we find him quick,” said Skywarp worriedly.

“If we can, we will,” promised Acid Storm. “If you’re messed up by sire-coding and denied trine-coding then I suspect that the prince is feeling even worse. At least you two have each other.”

Skywarp didn’t like thinking about that; it reminded him that Starscream was alone without them, neglected and probably deeply unhappy.

* * *

Even if it tasted like slag, properly formulated energon helped bolster Starscream’s energy so that he was able to move around the apartment more but listlessness still plagued him despite the antidepressant which Skyfire made certain that he consumed every orn. Starscream could not even contemplate the idea of work, not when getting out of berth felt like a trial. He was no longer so exhausted that he couldn’t leave it; now he lacked the will to, and he mostly huddled under his blankets, only peering at the sky whenever Skyfire wasn’t home. He would wrap himself with a quilt and sit for joors on the balcony, gazing at the seeker-free heavens, feeling like all the light had left his world as he unsuccessfully tried to remember the mysterious trinemates who had given him his spark’s precious company.

There were beginning to be physical signs that he was carrying them; one orn, standing in the wash rack with drooping wings, he looked in their mirror to see a slight mound where his belly had once been flat and sleek. Running his servo gently over it, he felt the definite bulge, the undeniable proof that his newsparks’ tiny protoforms were growing inside of him. A tear tracked down his cheek and he returned to his berth, where he spent the rest of the orn feeling agonizingly lonely, a feeling which didn’t improve at all when Skyfire came home, bringing company to see him. He turned his helm as Skyfire knocked on his door then stepped inside, smiling, “Hey, pretty Star, I brought our friends, everyone’s real worried about you.”

Starscream gazed at him painfully and curled a bit tighter around his chest and stomach, trying to guard those bits where his offspring were. Had he been with his trine, one of them would have been there to protect him at all times, jealously defending him, but all they could ever be now was a flicker of guilty memory. Starscream didn’t feel remotely smart anymore.

Skyfire failed to take this as a ‘no’ on the company invite, crooning, “Okay, come in, but be really quiet about it, okay? I don’t think his antidepressant is working.”

“Poor Star,” crooned their good friend and colleague Professor Muffler, a pink two wheeler, as she edged inside into Starscream’s room. Dean Flashpoint scooted hurriedly in behind her to kneel beside Starscream’s berth, followed by the hulking dark form of the university’s law professor Blackbox, who was a tankformer. Muffler reached out carefully and touched Starscream’s servos as he peered unhappily at them. “Sparked and missing your mates, huh?”

Skyfire snorted, “He doesn’t even know them. It was a one night stand.”

Blackbox shrugged, “It’s legal and binding according to Vos’ laws, Skyfire. You can’t deny that a spark merge happened, given the evidence.”

“Well, Vos’ laws are outdated,” huffed Skyfire.

“Let’s not get into that, mecha,” ordered Flashpoint sharply, reaching out and taking Starscream’s servo, his field saturated with worry. Much more softly, he asked, “It’s okay, Starscream, you won’t be gravid forever, this’ll soon pass and then you’ll be back to yourself, tormenting the students.”

Muffler giggled, “You’re such a menace when it comes to them, Star.”

“That’s why I’m a field professor instead of a teaching professor,” pointed out Starscream faintly with a hesitant smile.

“Well, I’m sure you’ll be lovely with the class of future intellectuals that you’re carrying,” beamed Flashpoint. “With a carrier as sharp as you, it’s impossible for them to be dumb.”

Starscream’s smile faded, “Takes three, with seekers. Once could have been pretty dumb. Or both.”

“Actually, I think they’d have to have been pretty clever to catch you, Star,” said Flashpoint supportively, resurrecting Starscream’s smile a little. “I’ve seen how fast you fly!”

“You really don’t remember anything?” asked Muffler.

Starscream shook his head. “Just a blur as they took off from a balcony. Purple and blue. I know nothing else about them.”

“Well, you might not have them, but you have us,” rumbled Blackbox caringly. “And if you ever want a break from ol’ Skyfire, you could come home with one of us. My mate’d welcome you; so would Flash’s.”

“Hey,” frowned Skyfire, clearly not on board with this.

“You know Destiny and Longdrive adore you, Starscream,” agreed Flashpoint, ignoring Skyfire.

“And if you came over to my apartment in the staff dorms we could watch terrible movies together all night!” grinned Muffler. “Femme flicks, the best kind.”

“Ew,” said Skyfire.

“Don’t knock ‘em, shuttle, I think they’re just what this poor seeker needs,” teased Muffler. 

“He needs to forget those dead weights who sparked him, not get reminded of them by some sappy romance movies,” huffed Skyfire. “He doesn’t even like romance, he’s a comedy and documentary mech, same as me.”

“Mmm, maybe usually, but right now he’s full of newsparks and hormones,” smirked Muffler. She edged closer to Starscream and smiled beseechingly, “Skyfire said you have an image capture of your little ones?”

Starscream shifted shyly; it had taken a lot of coaxing for Skyfire to convince him to show him the capture and he hadn’t let him hold it. Even though it was only a blurry scan image of his litter, he felt extremely possessive of it. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was proof that the newsparks existed or proof that their sires had, but the capture felt incredibly precious to him.

“Awwww,” whispered Muffler, beaming, “are you already super protective of your tiny ones, Star?”

“Am not,” Starscream attempted to deny, a white lie if there ever was one. “They’re just little frame parasites.”

“Star, don’t call them that,” groaned Skyfire.

“’Parasite’ is literally the definition of a newspark,” grumbled Starscream, even as he purred a little under his breath.

“Skyfire said that there’s three?” asked Blackbox eagerly.

Starscream shifted even further backwards, turtling under his blankets.

“Awww!” giggled Muffler. “Star, you are! You are so protective, look at you! It’s adorable!”

Primus help him, his newsparks were ruining him but he couldn’t help it - of their creators, his helpless litter had only him to defend them. Hesitantly, he pulled the image capture from his subspace and shakily displayed it where they could see.

“Ooh, look at that, three little teeny tiny seeker sparks,” grinned Flashpoint. 

“That’s neat how they’re all clustered together like that,” murmured Muffler.

“They… they have a bond with each other,” explained Starscream hesitantly. “I used to feel it with my brother Strut… a long time ago.” Before he had flown away to Iacon and defied Vosian norms, before every conversation with his family had dripped like acid with disapproval so that he could never do anything right anymore. He had even managed to screw up the one thing that they had been especially adamant that he do and he dreaded them showing up, finding him raising his tiny litter alone, provided for by Skyfire instead of the trine whom he had forgotten, who had created such a nice nest for him. It made his spark ache so badly and before he could stop it he had embarrassed himself with the inane_ help_ trill, making his very normal grounder friends jump. He jerked and squirmed backwards under his blankets then sobbed in humiliation, covering his mouth to muffle the sound.

“You know, Skyfire, I don’t think he’s ‘getting over’ the ‘dead weights’ as you called them,” noted Blackbox.

“I don’t get it! He doesn’t even remember them! He doesn’t even know their designations!” grumbled Skyfire in frustration. “How can someone mean so much to him when he’s never even had a conversation with them?”

“I dunno, but he’s Seeker, they’re different like that,” said Blackbox with a verbal shrug. “They’re supposed to be really social, and if there’s one thing that’s sure, Skyfire, it’s that Star really loves his newsparks.”

_“They_ make sense,” snapped Skyfire, “the idiots don’t.”

“Skyfire, let’s talk about it later where we can’t upset Starscream,” ordered Flashpoint firmly as Muffler dug under the blanket for Starscream with a hand, Starscream frantically avoiding her. “You know that he’s going through an ordeal and seeing him, it’s no wonder that he hasn’t been able to function enough to work.”

“I’m sorry!” whimpered Starscream as Muffler pulled him out of his blankets with impressive effort (given that she was smaller than him,) and into a hug.

“Primus, mech, you don’t take vacations,” dismissed Flashpoint. “If anyone on the faculty deserves a vorn or two off, it’s you, Starscream.”

“Flashpoint’s right, you’re a workaholic, Star, you’re usually in your lab well into the night,” soothed Muffler. “We know you weren’t planning to get sparked, or trined or anything, but your newsparks need you, so try to relax, okay? Just focus on figuring out how to be Carrier and we’ll work on Skyfire.”

“Hey!” growled Skyfire. “What do I need to be worked on for?”

“The jealousy, maybe, shuttle?” snorted Blackbox. 

Muffler hugged Starscream tighter and leaned her helm against his, snipping to Starscream’s horror, “Admit it, Skyfire, you’re jealous Star’s trine conjunxed him.”

“That’s not jealousy! That’s indignation! There’s no way that that can be a logical binding union!” snapped Skyfire. “I can guarantee that I love and care for Star more than they do! He’s practically kin; my carrier gives him birthorn presents for Primus’ sake! I’ve known him for vorns, while they knew him for what, a couple of joors while they fragged him?”

“Well, thanks to Star’s little mistake with the contraceptive, nobody but they remember what happened that night, and it’s none of our business anyway,” said Flashpoint firmly, making Starscream scowl sidelong at Skyfire - had his friend spread the degrading story to_ all_ of their friends? Should he expect Brainstorm to approach him about how dumb he was, should he expect that Primus-awful idiot Shockwave to know, all the way from the University of Kaon because Skyfire couldn’t shut his trap?

A horrible idea occurred to Starscream: did _Killjoy_ know?!

Maybe it was a good idea to spend some time elsewhere - normally, Starscream dealt with the irritating arrival of his sire through the time honoured tradition of shrieking at him, but he didn’t think he had the spark for it now. Now, his spark was very occupied, and the thought of the pure unfiltered _guilt_ which Killjoy would doubtlessly send his way, especially when he saw Starscream’s middle, was truly mortifying. Worse, if Killjoy knew then Comet and Missilefire would know, then shortly Strut, their grandcreators, all of his siblings (regardless of whether they were old enough to understand yet,) and every trine or coworker who was remotely connected to their family. All of them would know that he had forgotten his own damned trining, including the mecha involved, and that the only thing he actually had of them were the newsparks which they had impregnated him with.

Newsparks which he now had to raise alone, with a shuttle who wasn’t always the most graceful mech in his root mode, who might very well step on one of his vulnerable seekerlings, Starscream’s offspring who wouldn’t even be remotely capable of defending themselves for at least a decavorn.

Starscream shuddered, and he decided to give the notion of staying with his other friends some serious thought. 

* * *

In the end, it was Skyfire who had the best plan for avoiding Killjoy - as he had pointed out himself, his somewhat daft creators were practically kin, so Starscream endured Iacon’s dubious public transit system again. This time, they took reinforcements for the journey - Blackbox’s turret was distracting enough that most civilian mecha seemed to stare at it in a transfixed kind of horror, and forgot about the flight frames also present. If a fellow passenger was being especially irritating, all Blackbox had to do was cross his arms with a scowl and they would spontaneously discover something to do which was far more worthy of their time. The idiocy of the other grounders on the train should have made Starscream snicker uncontrollably (especially considering that Blackbox was one of the nicest mechs that he had ever met, the tankformer only truly fearsome in the courtroom,) but he spent most of the trip feeling deeply nauseous and attempting to convince his fuel tank not to upend itself all over Skyfire’s pedes.

He had managed to sit like a normal mech on the train this time though, but after he promptly purged in the nearest trash receptical upon reaching Iacon Spaceport Station, Skyfire decided to carry him the rest of the way. From there, it took over a joor to walk to his creators’ residence and by the time they reached the place, Starscream had vomited twice again, both times on Skyfire, which Blackbox somehow couldn’t stop snickering about.

“This is what it’s like living with a carrying mech, Sky, y’sure you wanna go through with this?” smirked Blackbox. “I’m sure that trine of Star’s is pretty eager to be puked on.”

Starscream retched and whimpered, but thankfully this time he didn’t have anything to bring up anymore.

“They probably don’t even know about the newsparks,” scoffed Skyfire. “I don’t get why you’re purging, Star, you’re on that good fuel from Vos.”

“I bet his trine would know,” sing-songed Blackbox.

“Shut up, Blackbox, and stop shipping Star’s random one night stand, he doesn’t have a relationship with those slagheaps,” snapped Skyfire testily. “He was too inebriated to make good choices that night so this situation is their fault. Star was under the influence.”

Starscream’s moronic instincts prompted Starscream to trill pathetically again at this, because one night stand or not, whether he had wanted them or not, the slagheaps under discussion still somehow mattered to him. Skyfire hushed him, muttering a reassurance that they would soon be home, and Starscream chirped in greeting to Hardwing when they got to the elder shuttles’ door, Hardwing demanding, “Th’slag happened to you, Skyfire? What’s that all over you?”

Blackbox laughed himself senseless while a tutting Bluenose forced Skyfire to take a shower, and Starscream curled up on the shuttles’ massive couch, having somehow completely avoided getting any of his sick on himself. Bluenose wrapped him in a fluffy comforter and fed him some low grade to settle his fuel tank while Blackbox visited with them. Starscream, needing more heat than his frame seemed to be providing him, slithered into Bluenose’s lap and was very grateful as she laid a blanketing servo on his back, the weight seeming to help him get warmer. Hardwing scowled in disapproval, but everyone ignored him, and Blackbox stayed until the evening, cheerfully declaring their operation of moving Starscream to a place which Killjoy did not know about a resounding success. 

“How are you doing, Star?” asked Bluenose softly when Skyfire stepped outside with Hardwing to talk to some of his cousins who had noticed that he was home. “Are you holding up okay? Skyfire’s been very worried, he’s said that you are having a difficult time.”

Starscream looked at her miserably, not wanting to answer, and presented the capture of his newsparks, trying to deflect attention from himself to what was so far the only good aspect of carrying (even if part of his processor screamed at how illogical that was considering that the tiny fraggers were ruining his life.)

“Oh, are those your little ones?” beamed Bluenose. “It’s incredible that there’s three.”

“Seekers almost always carry multiples,” grimaced Starscream, tucking the capture back in his subspace lovingly. “We… we need a high population index due to trining.”

“Seekers can’t just conjunx?” asked Bluenose.

Starscream shifted his wings in a Vosian ‘no,’ remembered who he was with, and shook his head, murmuring, “The coding is too strong.”

“And now you have a trine,” sighed Bluenose. “Skyfire’s very upset about that.”

“I think he would have felt better if I had met them like a conjunx, and if it hadn’t been a one night stand which I don’t even remember,” said Starscream, feeling very small and worthless. “Seekers don’t… seekers don’t work that way though. If you’re a single seeker with carrier coding and you fly in a trining flight you’re almost guaranteed to be trined that orn. And even if you don’t fly… if you’re in Vos and you don’t have a trine you’ll probably be found by at least one mech with sire-coding who’ll try to catch you - but only if your sparks resonate. That’s why I’ve avoided Vos. Wouldn’t have gone this time but my creators made me, so I took medicine to keep any sire-coded seekers from finding me.”

“And it didn’t work,” sighed Bluenose sympathetically.

“Yeah, and the contraceptive slagged my memory, so I don’t remember anything about them except impressions of what colours they were,” said Starscream miserably. “One was blue, one was purple - that’s all I recall.” He ex-vented, “I made the biggest mistake when I left their apartment. I was supposed to_ stay_ there, it’s what a carrier-seeker is coded to do, but when I onlined all I could think about was how Skyfire was probably freaking out because my HUD said it’d been three orns. I _felt_ the pull of the coding, I _liked_ their home, _my_ home, but I… but I flew back here to Iacon instead. Now my trinemates have no idea where I am.”

“Oh, Star,” vented Bluenose, hugging him. “Isn’t there someone that could be called?”

Starscream grimaced as she put him back in her lap, “Don’t tell Skyfire, but the medic Ratchet gave me the number for the Vosian Royal Embassy. Medic seems to think they can help.”

“Then why don’t you call them?” asked Bluenose, cupping his face in a servo. “I know you love Skyfire, sweetspark, and we love you too, but your newsparks need their sires, and you need them as well.”

“I can’t, Skyfire’s already spent so much shanix on this, and he thinks my trinemates are deadbeats,” said Starscream.

“Now, that’s unfair,” said Bluenose. “You said it was a coded thing, trining, right? Doesn’t sound to me like there’s much of a choice in whether it happened or not.”

“No, there isn’t… that’s why I avoided it forever,” grimaced Starscream. “I didn’t want a trine because it’d end my career here in Iacon. But now…” he touched the small bulge in his middle, and attempted to deny a tear which had just rolled down his cheek, “…now I have to raise innocent sparklings in a city which hates their existence.”

“You should call the embassy, Starscream,” sighed Bluenose. “At least consider doing it - Skyfire’s wonderful - I should know as his carrier - but he isn’t your mate, no matter how he might like to be.”

Starscream flushed, “That’d never work, he’s huge compared to me.”

“And it especially won’t work because you’re a conjunxed mech,” said Bluenose. “I’m sure that trine is looking for you; I’m sure that they are every bit as distressed as you are.”

“But if I leave… what do I say to Skyfire?” asked Starscream.

“You say that you have to go, and hope that he recovers from it,” said Bluenose. “I’ll try to make him see sense, Starscream, but you need to focus on you, and those three precious little newsparks who you’re lugging around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starscream in this chapter reminds me of the point where I am in my life - I SHOULD leave my employment situation, because it would be so much better for my health if I did, but they've been good to me, so it's proving difficult.


	5. A Cure for Nausea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I apparently might be posting all of this today? That'd be cool!

Skyfire didn’t like staying with his creators for too long, so they only stayed a few orns, but hopefully it was enough to keep Killjoy from being annoying. The shuttle was at work and the apartment was silent, giving Starscream ample time to be miserable in peace. Outside it was a nice orn, but he couldn’t enjoy it because he felt too weak to fly, a profound wrongness hanging heavy over him like a drowning encasement of dihydrogen monoxide. His spark felt weak, he was still hungry all the time, and since he purged at least once an orn now for no reason at all, he was consuming far more of the pricy Vosian jet grade than he thought that he was supposed to. Worrying about finances, especially considering that from what he knew he’d have to stay on the special energon until his litter was no longer dependant on him for fuel (which would be at least three vorns,) Starscream attempted to cut back, only to feel starvingly hungry, not to mention thoroughly depressed.

He gnawed on a rust stick in an attempt to supplement his diet so that he wouldn’t need so much pricy fuel, grateful that at least rust sticks were cheap. Bluenose had given him an old textpad from when she had carried Skyfire which he was reading, but very little of what was in it seemed relevant and mostly the information sank his mood even worse. All of the pictures in the textpad were of happy carriers and sires being in love together, excited about their expected young. Big, sappy adoring smiles, the sire hugging the carrier of his newspark were on almost every page, making Starscream want to either vomit or cry. (Actually the puking had nothing to do with the simpering love fest going on in the textpad, he just felt nauseous constantly.) 

Jealous despite himself, he knocked the textpad vengefully onto the floor and stared at the ceiling, one servo stroking his middle. Potentially over a joor passed with him doing this (he’d done it all orn before and adamantly denied it to Skyfire when his amica wondered if he had even moved since leaving that morning,) when there was a chime at the door, something which pretty much never happened. Nobody ever visited them by the _door_ \- Starscream’s seeker kin and Skyfire always entered via the balcony. Whenever they did have grounder company, Skyfire brought them in, so the door chime never went off.

It was curious. Very curious. He wondered if it was some religious zealot obsessed with Unicron coming to call - he had heard that those could be a problem in some places. 

Electing to investigate, Starscream stuffed another rust stick into his face, wrapped himself in a blanket, and answered the door, stepping back in surprise at the sight of the medic, Ratchet.

“Is the shuttle here?” demanded Ratchet.

“No,” said Starscream, surprised.

“Good,” said Ratchet as he invited himself in, pushing past Starscream then grabbing his servo.

“What are you doing here?” wondered Starscream, too surprised to fight being dragged around by a medic in his own apartment.

“I told you that I’d make a house call if your stupid friend didn’t bring you in after a decaorn,” said Ratchet, steering him to the couch. “Sit down; how are you feeling? You look nauseous.”

Starscream winced, “I’m horrible.”

“I don’t doubt it,” said Ratchet, something almost like pity in his voice. “You’re really setting yourself back by staying here. I had hoped to hear that you had called the embassy and returned to Vos.”

Starscream looked aside, “I… can’t. Skyfire…”

“Is _just_ your amica endura,” said Ratchet. 

“Your antidepressant didn’t work,” deflected Starscream.

“I did not have high hopes that it would,” said Ratchet. “The only cure for spark rift is merging. You spark needs to be stabilized by the ones which split it, and you’re feeling nauseous because you need their transfluid in order to finish the creation of your newspark’s spark chambers. Until then, your newsparks’ development will be delayed and you’ll keep purging; supplemented fuel won’t be enough. Long term, you risk them having permanent issues if you don’t reunite with their sires.”

The news settled on Starscream, cold and unpleasant. 

“The Vosian Embassy can get you back to Vos, Starscream,” said Ratchet, touching his servo. “In the meantime, I’ve brought some supplements which I want to inject directly into your lines which should help temporarily with the purging, but only for a few orns, and it’s not something which can be given constantly.”

Starscream nodded hollowly.

“Your newsparks need their sires, and so do you, Starscream,” said Ratchet, priming a syringe from his subspace and taking hold of his arm. “If you haven’t left Vos by the time I check on you again in another decaorn, I will rule you medically as being of unsound mind and I will contact the embassy myself on your behalf, but I’d vastly prefer it if you did that yourself.”

The medic left after another half joor of insistent nagging, leaving Starscream conflicted and feeling no better than when he had come. He lay on the couch and he was so deep in his thoughts that when he heard the approach of thrusters, he mistook them at first for Skyfire’s, until horrible recognition made him realize that he hadn’t managed to avoid a worse source of nagging at all. Before he could manage to flee out of the apartment into the hallway which grounders accessed the building residences through (he’d live in the stairwell if he had to until Skyfire came home,) Killjoy was on his balcony. Starscream took one look at his sire’s condemning glare and nervously unlocked the balcony door, hissing, “Go away.”

“Stop that, Starscream,” snapped Killjoy. “Do you not realize at all how worried we have all been?”

Considering Killjoy’s significant lack of backup, Starscream decided to doubt that they had been concerned at all, and started digging in the cupboard for the strongest high grade that they had (maybe if he got Killjoy overcharged he’d stop being such a slagheap.) Pretending to be a good little creation, he sang, “Getting you some energon, sure you’re hungry.”

“Don’t feed me that swill from Helex again, that slag is nasty,” snarled Killjoy, stalking after him. Starscream managed to conceal his spiking of the ‘swill from Helex’ with the high grade and handed it to his sire, smiling sweetly, which made Killjoy glare even harder at him as he took it. The aft helm took a sip and grimaced, “Is this all you have?”

“I’m not giving you_ my_ jet grade, that slag’s expensive,” snapped Starscream.

“Fine,” ceded Killjoy, knocking the energon back like it was revolting, which it probably was, Starscream thought smugly. He resumed scowling, “How the frag did you mess up your trining, you little pest?”

All nuance of happiness at having done something unkind to his evil sire left Starscream’s spark again and he attempted to escape into his berthroom, only to abruptly halt, something about his sire’s phrasing percolating…

He whipped around, glaring at the older seeker who had to jump to avoid being hit in the face by his suddenly very upright wings, Starscream snarling, “How do you know I messed it up?”

“Because the unworthy little scrapheaps came to our eyrie looking for you,” hissed Killjoy.

Starscream’s spark flashed unpleasantly and there was abruptly a million questions which he wanted to ask, but he knew that Killjoy would not answer them. “Did you tell them that I was in Iacon?”

“Of course not; you think that I approve of failures who can’t keep their trinemate where he belongs?” growled Killjoy. 

Starscream’s wings drooped without his permission. “Oh. Of course.” Of course his sire wouldn’t ever do anything _sane_, something which would lead to his happiness. He wanted to tell Killjoy to get the frag out of his apartment, but the last time he had done that Killjoy had bent his wingtip and it hadn’t stopped hurting even after Skyfire had fixed it for an entire vorn.

“Obviously you believed them inadequate as well,” huffed Killjoy. “Their eyrie was likely terrible; I’m glad that you still have refined taste in some aspects, although your friendship with the shuttle leaves much to be desired.”

“The shuttle takes better care of me than you ever did,” snapped Starscream, unable to help himself, and he regretted it an instance later as his sire swatted him, hot lines of fire searing from scratch marks on his cheek. He squeaked like he was still about five vorns old and somehow couldn’t stop himself from bending double, sobbing as Killjoy commenced raging about what a disappointment he was, how he was wasting his potential in Iacon. It was the same rant as always, but somehow it felt so much worse than usual with his face bleeding and his spark feeling so terrible. He clutched his cheek, the floor beneath him littered with tears and drops of his line energon, but Killjoy didn’t seem to care. All he wanted to do was deny and devalue absolutely everything great that Starscream had ever achieved.

“Stop acting like a seekerling!” snarled Killjoy, wrenching him back onto his pedes by his servo, which he clenched too tight. “You should be above this, you -”

Killjoy abruptly stopped talking, his gaze fixated suddenly downwards. Starscream thought that perhaps he was only just noting all the line energon dotting the floor until his sire abruptly touched his distended middle. A shock ran through him at his sire’s touch; Starscream hadn’t been letting _anyone_ touch his middle, and before he could register what he was doing he had already gotten revenge for the scratches on his cheek, his sire stepping backwards hurriedly as his own cheek was split.

“Frag,” said Killjoy, not appearing to even notice that he’d been cut, too busy gaping at Starscream’s middle. “You… you are sparked. They said, but… we thought that was just them trying to make us cooperate…”

_ They said._ Starscream’s wings flared as the implications of these glyphs hit him - his trinemates knew that he was sparked. He wondered if they knew that he wasn’t in Vos and it abruptly hit him fully that his trine was looking for him, that maybe they were feeling as terrible as he was. He tried to formulate a reply, something smart to demand his trines’ designations out of his sire, but as he watched the slagheap strode swiftly for the balcony, snarling, “I must speak with my trine.”

Without a farewell, an apology, a hug, or anything remotely implying that he actually cared about Starscream or his unborn grandcreations even remotely he left, abandoning Starscream to the lonely apartment. Starscream broke down crying again and Skyfire found him a few joors later still crouched miserably on the floor, the shuttle swearing when he saw the dried line energon crusted on his face, squawking, “What the _frag_ happened, Star? Was Killjoy here?!”

“Killjoy was here,” whimpered Starscream. “Skyfire, my trine knows that I’m sparked and they’re looking for me, but Killjoy refused to tell them that I’m in Iacon.”

Skyfire gaped at him and Starscream blubbered, “I still don’t know their designations!”

“Slaggit, Star,” said Skyfire, and he swept Starscream into his arms. “I’m so sorry. Let’s get you cleaned up - at least if he’s been here he shouldn’t come back for a while, right? Come on, and stop thinking about him, he’s awful. After this let’s go to Muffler’s, you can watch that dumb slag with her and get distracted.”

“I don’t want to,” whined Starscream. “I just wanna recharge.”

“Okay, but cleanup first, let’s get you looking your beautiful self again,” said Skyfire and Starscream was grateful for his comforting, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the trine which was missing him, who had tried to plead with his slagheap family for his potential whereabouts.

He thought about the embassy number, but there was no way that he could call it - he couldn’t betray Skyfire.

* * *

Thundercracker’s first trip to the beautiful citystate of Praxus was marred by it being a complete bust - Starscream wasn’t there, nor was he in Crystal City or Helex. While the royals ran scans, he and Skywarp checked out the universities, trying to inquire whether Starscream had been a student or if he taught there as a professor. It was a shot in the dark, but as smart as their new mate was, they couldn’t imagine him working anywhere mundane. None of the embassies they visited reported anything helpful, and they had just returned to the high speed military transport ship which was carrying them around Cybertron when finally some grace filtered back into their lives.

“I think Polyhex should be next,” Ion Storm was arguing just as one of the pilots hurried into the ship’s campaign room.

“Sirs! My lords, there’s been a message from home!” exclaimed the pilot excitedly.

“Oh?” said Acid Storm.

“What is it? Did they learn something?” asked Skywarp eagerly.

“Yes - Lord Comet sent the palace a message; it apparently had only one glyph in it, but I think we need to take it to spark,” said the pilot.

“What was the glyph?” asked Skywarp, practically trembling under Thundercracker’s arm now.

The pilot grinned, “Iacon.”

_Iacon._ Thundercracker suddenly felt a peculiar rightness, a spark-deep confirmation which couldn’t be denied. 

“Set course then, Bronzewind,” ordered Acid Storm. 

“What do you think changed Lord Comet’s mind?” asked Skywarp as relief cascaded through them both.

“I don’t feel like_ her_ mind needed changing,” scowled Thundercracker, remembering how the carrier had reacted to them - she had been the only seeker who had actually seemed excited about them, happy to make their acquaintance. “She just needed a chance to sneak away from her trinemates and family.”

“I wonder what that was?” said Skywarp.

“I don’t care,” said Thundercracker earnestly, hugging Skywarp tighter and nuzzling him. “I’m not going to look at it sideways; thanks to her we might finally get our mate back.”

“I can’t wait to love on him,” sighed Skywarp longingly. “I’m gonna give him a big hug and shower him with kisses.”

“We need to be really gentle, Warp,” said Thundercracker, firming his jaw as he thought. “We don't know what was going on in his processor when he left us, so let’s try not to spook him. He’s been through too much already.”

“We’ll get him home safe, my lords,” promised Nova Storm. “We should only be a few joors away from finding him now.”

Thundercracker hoped so, and he wondered what awaited them when they did. He hadn’t spent much time considering it, but at last faced with the prospect of meeting his new mate properly, he could. His spark leaping with joy, he pulled Skywarp over to the nearest window so that they could watch the ship take off, and began dreaming of how they might finally encounter their prince.

* * *

Skyfire’s response to Killjoy’s violent intrusion was to take Starscream to work with him, bundling him in a blanket (as if Starscream couldn’t walk on his own pedes,) and packing a large amount of treats for him, declaring that he refused to leave Starscream by himself in their apartment. Starscream appreciated this, but he didn’t appreciate having public transit inflicted upon him again, and despite Ratchet’s medicine, by the time they reached the university Skyfire was in distinct need of a shower once more. Students saw them and pointed with much humiliating ‘ew-ing’ and ‘grosses’ but Starscream was unrepentant; the stupid train had made his stomach want to switch places with his throat. Skyfire set Starscream in his chair in their lab, then he commed Muffler to keep him company while he went for an emergency shower, Muffler giggling, “Your frame really doesn’t like trains, does it?”

Starscream looked at her woundedly, and her smile faded, “Aw, Star, I’m sorry; how are you feeling? Your cheek looks horrible.”

Starscream let her coax out the reprehensible tale of the previous orn and by the time Skyfire was on his way back, Muffler had already determined that being stuck in a potentially hazardous laboratory all orn wasn’t the safest place for him. Thus, she enlisted Skyfire’s somewhat hesitant help in getting Starscream to her apartment in the staff dorms, Muffler promising to keep Starscream company while Skyfire worked since she had the orn off. Everything in her apartment was rather small, befitting her size, but she had an average sized berth which she gave Starscream the use of. He curled up on top of it and endured the dreaded ‘femme flicks’ which she had promised him with, Starscream finding them not only amazingly shallow, but poorly written.

Still, at least it was distracting, and Starscream preferred it to thinking about his own nose-diving life. Muffler bewildered him by crying every time that there was a kissing scene, and he felt distinctly uncomfortable as she smirked at the interface ones. 

“Hope your trining was this steamy, Star,” Muffler told him disturbingly at one point.

By the end of the orn, Starscream had determined that there was far too much porn in the slag that Muffler watched, and that she, more than him, needed to get a conjunx. He was quite glad to be rescued by Skyfire, who had a bucket on hand this time, and who must have been as exhausted as he was, since he hired a transport to get them home. Not even the bewildered scowl of the transport driver could convince Skyfire that this was a dumb idea and Starscream was deeply grateful despite the grounder’s scowling for the ride. He sank onto his bed, totally exhausted, and he barely remembered to fuel before passing out to Skyfire rubbing his wings.

* * *

Iacon gleamed golden in the morning light below as the transport ship carried them over, Skywarp glued to his window as he felt how almost painfully _right_ the vast citystate was. Starscream was _here_ \- both he and Thundercracker knew it in their sparks, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how their new mate had managed to literally fly to the other side of the world all by himself. It seemed profoundly impressive to Skywarp, and he eagerly listened to the cheerful talk of the scanning crew as Thundercracker consulted their map of Iacon. The moment that the hatch opened and Acid Storm was done dealing with Iaconian Customs they were up in the sky on their wings, the scanning crew taking off to fly a search grid while they flew straight for Iacon’s university. The feeling of correctness got stronger the closer that they got to the place, and by the time they landed to get their bearings, they felt absolutely certain that their trinemate was nearby. 

“Excuse me,” said Skywarp in his best, albeit terrible and very broken Neocybex to what he thought might be a student, “can you point us to the administration building?”

The student gaped at him as if he had told him to leap into the Pit and fled.

“Um, what?” asked Skywarp, bewildered.

“Apparently not so friendly to flight frames or seekers here,” grimaced Thundercracker. “That’s fun.”

“TC, that’s not fun at all!” protested Skywarp.

“Sarcasm, love,” sighed Thundercracker.

“Oh,” said Skywarp lamely. “Maybe if we walk around we’ll just find him?”

“I don’t think so,” said Thundercracker, his wings fanning as he looked around, sharply watching the students walking about give them an unnecessarily wide berth. It was as if they thought they were some great winged predators ready to swoop down and eat them or something. “Let’s just explore, it should be around here, since this is the main entrance.”

Thundercracker, of course, was right, but the receptionists in the administration building when they found it were almost as useless as the students. Skywarp started getting frustrated, impatient to find their mate, but Thundercracker somehow stayed calm, turning his helm slowly, wings flicking as he looked around.

“What is it, TC?” asked Skywarp hopefully.

“I think I can smell him,” said Thundercracker quietly. “Just faintly.”

They both looked around hopefully as the frightened looking receptionist whom they had been trying to consult returned from wherever she had disappeared to, a surly looking flight frame of undetermined type who was wearing a face mask in her wake. She gestured madly to the other flight frame and looked at them hopefully as the confused looking mech said in poor Vosian, “Hello, I am Professor Brainstorm. Steelrim wishes me to tell you that admissions are closed for the semester.”

“What?” asked Skywarp, baffled. “We didn’t ask her that.”

His mate cut to the chase, “We’re looking for Professor Starscream, does he work here?”

Professor Brainstorm’s wings lifted in surprise, “Absolutely he does - well, sometimes. He’s a field professor, so he’s usually off in interstellar space with his partner hunting down samples, but he and his partner are in a processing phase right now, so he should be around.”

Skywarp struggled to figure out what this meant. “What… what’s a field professor?”

The professor’s faceplate abruptly folded away and he smiled, “It means that he doesn’t teach - which is a good thing because he’d be terrible at it. He hates the students and they’re terrified of him, which really isn’t a good match from an education standpoint. Can’t blame him - I don’t teach either. Most of the ground frame students we get here are very ignorant, and they just get extremely tiresome to be around.”

“Oh,” said Skywarp, feeling rather outsmarted. 

“Why are you asking for him?” asked Professor Brainstorm curiously. 

Skywarp looked at Thundercracker helplessly, his mate boldly declaring, “He’s our trinemate.”

Brainstorm stared at them, then snorted, “Well, aren’t you neglectful.”

“What?!” spluttered Skywarp.

“Dean Flashpoint’s office is up there,” said Professor Brainstorm, pointing at a balcony above the reception desks where they stood, his mask unfolding back over his lower face. “I’m going back to work. Goodbye.”

“TC,” whimpered Skywarp, shocked at this harshness.

“Shh, to them we might just seem that way,” grimaced Thundercracker. “None of them understand, so don’t take it to spark. Come on - warp us up there.”

Grateful for this excuse to be helpful, Skywarp teleported them to the balcony that the rude mech had indicated and they began searching for the most official looking office that they could find. Finally finding one which had an aide working at a desk in a room in front of it like a gatekeeper, they stepped into the door frame, Thundercracker knocking on it politely with, “Excuse me, but is this where we can find Dean Flashpoint?”

His Neocybex was much better than Skywarp’s, not that either of them could actually read the language.

“Yes it is,” said the mech sitting at the desk. “I’m Longdrive, Flashpoint’s aide; do you have an appointment?”

“No, but we need to speak with him,” said Thundercracker. “I am Thundercracker, this is Skywarp.”

“I’m afraid that you need an appointment to speak with the dean -” frowned Longdrive, writing something on a ledger distractedly.

“It’s about Professor Starscream,” interrupted Thundercracker. “We’re trying to find him; he’s our conjunx.”

Longdrive froze and slowly stared at them, “Oh. Do you mind waiting a groon? He’s in a meeting at the moment, but I think that he will talk to you. Do you have legal proof of Starscream being your conjunx?”

Thundercracker withdrew the legal certificate which Lord Daggerpoint had given them from his subspace and laid it on the desk. Unfortunately, it was in Vosian.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t speak or read your language,” grimaced Longdrive. “I suppose that that’s legit, though. We can call for a translator if needed.”

“Do you have one here?” asked Skywarp as Thundercracker carefully tucked the certificate back in his subspace.

“Yes, but getting his help might be a trick,” grimaced Longdrive.

“Why?” asked Skywarp.

“Because he happens to be Starscream’s amica endura, and he thinks that you’re both deadbeats who got him sparked on a one night stand,” said Longdrive bluntly.

“He’s what?!” yelped Skywarp.

“’Amica endura’ means ‘best friend,’ Warp,” growled Thundercracker in Vosian. “Why does he think that?”

“Probably because as far as I understand it - I haven’t had a chance to talk to Star myself because he’s been stuck at home - Starscream does not remember trining you,” said Longdrive.

His glyphs hit Skywarp and Thundercracker like a steel beam to the helm.

“W-what?!” squeaked Skywarp. “But we - we did everything right -”

“Warp, something was wrong with him,” Thundercracker reminded him fiercely in Vosian. He addressed Longdrive, “Do you have any idea why he forgot our _trining?”_

“According to Skyfire Starscream had a less than genius moment and took a contraceptive which wasn’t meant for him before flying to Vos,” said Longdrive. He made a rather widespread gesture which Skywarp belatedly realized meant them, “He was trying to avoid _this_ situation because his career is very important to him, but, quote Skyfire ‘Star’s creators are evil and if he hadn’t flown to Vos to attend the flight thing they were going to bodily force him.’”

Skywarp felt Thundercracker’s hatred for Starscream’s close family increase by tenfold.

“He didn’t want to trine and they made him?” snapped Thundercracker.

“Yes, and apparently one of his sires dearest was by to visit him the orn before yesterorn and scratched him,” said Longdrive.

Skyfire, whoever he was, was an insufferable gossip, Skywarp concluded.

“He _hurt_ Starscream?” growled Thundercracker angrily.

“Yeah, Skyfire showed me a capture, I’ve never seen him so mad,” said Longdrive. “Poor Starscream’s having a very rough go, so you’d better be here to fix that.”

“We are,” confirmed Thundercracker. “He won’t have to suffer his disgusting kin any longer, Skywarp and I are going to take very good care of him.”

“Hope so,” said Longdrive and they went quiet to wait, Skywarp wincing as he felt his mate fuming bitterly beside him. The fact that Starscream had been forced into their trining flight appalled them, and the fact that he had wanted to avoid it so badly that he had taken drugs in an attempt to prevent it made Skywarp feel sick to his stomach. He felt like his new trinemate had been violated at every turn, and he couldn’t help agreeing with Thundercracker’s furious thought that they truly were rescuing their mate from his natal kin. The trinebond prevented them from really feeling guilty about trining Starscream for more than a few kliks - the tricoloured seeker was theirs now, whether Starscream had really consented or not, and Skywarp felt peculiarly certain that Starscream agreed. _Trine_ was instinct - they belonged with each other now, for better or for worse and nothing would ever change that.

The door to the office beyond opened and a smiling grounder popped his head out, declaring, “That meeting was a great success, Longdrive! Let’s celebrate it after work, we can…” 

Skywarp watched as the mech’s smile faded, Dean Flashpoint declaring, “Oh. You’re here for Starscream, aren’t you? You’re his trine. Well, come inside - I’m glad that you’ve finally come.”

They stepped gratefully into his office, which sported a beautiful view of the city, and sat uneasily in chairs as the grounder sat in his chair, sighing, “Your designations?”

“Thundercracker and Skywarp,” said Thundercracker, withdrawing their trining certificate and showing it to the grounder. “Starscream is our legal conjunx.”

“As the newsparks he’s beset with are yours as well,” said Flashpoint, barely glancing at it then sighing. “I trust that that’s a legal document, so there’s no need for a translator. Besides Starscream’s sire Professor Killjoy and his brother, I’ve never met any of his kin - none of them come here. Seekers don’t generally at all, unless they have a powerful reason to, and if any seeker has good reason to come to Vos, it’s you. What delayed you? Starscream is having quite a difficult carrying without you.”

Skywarp and Thundercracker winced, Thundercracker admitting, “It took us a while to learn where he went. His kin in Vos refused to tell us until yesterorn and we came as fast as possible. We need to bring him home.”

“That you do, of course,” said Flashpoint rather sorrowfully. “I’m guessing that this may be the end of his tenure here?”

_ Probably,_ thought Thundercracker, but instead he said, “Right now we’re just focused on his health and getting him into our care. We know that he didn’t mean to leave us and that the only reason that he did was because he was under the influence of something which wasn’t meant for him.”

“Yes, the contraceptive,” vented Flashpoint. “Professor Skyfire, Starscream’s partner, amica and roommate told me about that.”

“Is Skyfire a gossip?” demanded Skywarp crossly.

“I suppose he is,” laughed Flashpoint. “In any case, I’m on your side. Skyfire might not want Starscream to go, but I’ve seen how unhappy that seeker currently is, and I’d feel better if he was being cared for by mates instead of a friend. I’ll give you the address to their apartment building, but please, try not to take Starscream before Skyfire returns home - let them say goodbye. They’re very close, and I think it would hurt Star if he didn’t get to say farewell.”

“Thank you, we really appreciate your help,” said Thundercracker earnestly. “We’ll let Starscream say farewell, we’re not monsters.” _He’s going to need a few joors to get used to us being near him anyway._

“Yeah, we love him,” supported Skywarp. 

“We’re very much looking forwards to looking after him,” said Thundercracker. 

“That’s good, that helps a great deal,” smiled Flashpoint, beginning to write the address down. “I wish you and him great happiness. Now, since you’ll naturally be flying there, here’s what their tower looks like…”

* * *

It hadn’t been a fun orn. Starscream had been onlined at a wretchedly early joor by discomfort in his fuel tank, and Skyfire had spent the better part of the morning before work stroking his wings while he purged the energon which they were trying to convince his fuel tank to accept. Finally, it had subsided and Skyfire, deeming Starscream too sick to deal with Iacon transit, the memory of the transport hire cost haunting them both, had gone to work, both of them agreeing that Killjoy had probably gone back to Vos now. Starscream’s sire rarely stayed more than a couple of orns in Iacon - his hatred for the place greatly outweighed whatever minute care he possessed for Starscream, so he rarely ever lingered. Discovering that Starscream’s fuel tank was still somehow accepting rust sticks, Skyfire had left Starscream with a cube of the fancy carrier jet grade to dip them in, and the promise that he’d buy him more after work.

Grateful that he didn’t have to endure transit, or the university, or Muffler’s Primus-awful idea of what television was, Starscream lay nauseously in berth, trying but failing to be mad at his newsparks, who were just too innocent to hate. Considering the puny things did not yet possess even the most basic of comprehension yet, and that it was his frame’s inadequacy to be blamed for his misery, not them, Starcream forgave them. He gazed forlornly at his window through the small hole which he had left in his blanket coverings, watching the sky slowly shift throughout the orn from a stunning sunrise, to clear blue, to various cloud patterns. Too sick to recharge, he protested with a whimper as his spark flickered, melodramatically wondering if it meant that he was dying as it had been doing it nearly all morning, and it was surely a bad sign.

The shrill of high performance thrusters caught in his audials, and Starscream lifted his helm, thinking that at the very least, this time he’d get to puke on Killjoy. Killjoy surely deserved spew painted up and down his front more than poor Skyfire did.

Since Skyfire had apparently forgotten to lock the fragging balcony door (or maybe he had thought that Starscream would enjoy some sunshine later once he stopped being nauseous,) Killjoy let himself in, barking in greeting, “Star! Where are you, you little glitch? I’m taking you back to Vos!”

For some reason, every single component in Starscream’s frame from his thrusters to his wingtips screeched _no_ at this and Starscream hissed accordingly as Killjoy stalked scowling into his room, snapping, “Stop that! Didn’t you hear me? I’m taking you home, you idiot.”

“Don’t want to,” glared Starscream, unsheathed claws digging into his sheets, his legs and wings tensing weakly beneath the blankets as his spark gave another, much stronger and even more disconcerting flutter. “Go away, Killjoy, how many times do I have to tell you to slag off before you understand that you’re not welcome here?” 

Something was making him brave. Killjoy’s face (still horribly scratched, Starscream was pleased to note,) twisted murderously. His sire flared his wings in dominance and clenched his fists, “Starscream, you are _sparked_, so you cannot stay here with the damned shuttle. You need to come home with me right now so that you can receive proper medical care, and be with your carrier. Since your trine is unworthy, she will comfort you, and we’ll find a sire-coded seeker worthy of providing the physical support that you need -”

“NO!” screeched Starscream, standing sharply, his nausea making him lurch. He recovered and spread out his wings, flaring his plating as he attempted to make Killjoy realize that he meant business, how completely unacceptable his words were. In his chest, his spark seemed to jump, but he bravely ignored it, his wingtips shaking violently as he growled, “I’m not going anywhere with you! I’m an adult and I am not your creation anymore, so I don’t have to listen to you!”

“You will always be my creation, Starscream!” roared Killjoy, stalking closer, servo reaching, and Starscream dodged him, lunging for the living room, somehow managing to avoid his sire’s swiping hand. “And until you are trined to competent mecha -”

Starscream’s spark abruptly felt like it was trying to leap out of his chest, a sense of panicked euphoria rushing through him as behind them there was a bizarre hissing _vop_ sound and an incredibly peculiar feel of air rushing. Without thinking he trilled, the pathetic _help_ trill which had gone unanswered for so long, and to his gleeful terror he heard it answered, his whole being seeming to swell with warmth as a powerful mech seeker suddenly flanked him on either side. They were both eerily strange and yet familiar, Starscream’s processor jogging as he felt fragments of memory abruptly come back to him, blooming like embers. He knew that they were his and he found himself lovingly recalling the feeling of their fields, their scents drenching his olfactory sensor in comfort. Both seekers were growling, their wings canted back in warning of attack, their claws bared, and the larger one, a blue specimen with black, red and white markings, snarled, _“Killjoy,”_ as if they were acquainted with Starscream’s sire.

“Not you again,” snapped Killjoy, apparently ignorant of the profound moment as Starscream gazed admiringly at his other trinemate, who was purple, black and silver. Both of them were stunningly good looking - whatever he’d been thinking during his trining flight, he’d fragging_ scored_ when they had caught him. He chirped in approval and nervously reached to touch the purple one’s arm, wondering what his plating felt like. The purple seeker glanced around at him with a sudden wide grin and suddenly threw an arm around his waist, planting a kiss right on Starscream’s cheek as he tugged him close.

“You’re so pretty! I missed you!” chirruped the purple one as Starscream instantly purred, his whole being_ thrilled._

“Not now, Warp,” growled the blue seeker, his focus on the threat in the room, the horrible creature known as Killjoy. Starscream didn’t particularly care about Killjoy anymore though - ‘Warp’ was _touching him_ and his spark was having an ecstatic conniption about how close the fragger’s servo was to his hip. He nuzzled up against ‘Warp’ frantically, wanting more, and his gorgeous purple mate giggled, hugging him tighter.

“You’re so cute, I love you too!” exclaimed ‘Warp.’

_“Skywarp,”_ barked the blue seeker, Killjoy looking thoroughly revolted.

“Starscream, stop demeaning yourself, these -” Killjoy began to hiss.

“However you intend to end that sentence, don’t,” snarled the blue seeker, impressive wings lifting in murderous threat which immediately enraptured Starscream. “_We_ are Starscream’s trine, we caught and took his spark legally, whether you like it or not, and his litter is _ours!_ You can either accept that and move on, or accept being banished from his life, because I will not allow you to torment him anymore!”

Starscream whined adamantly. The fragger’s wings were glorious and he wanted to touch them.

“I know, isn’t TC so handsome?” giggled Skywarp, hugging him with both arms now. “We have the best mech for a trinemate, he’s so protective, he’s super smart and he’s_ really_ good at interface.”

‘TC’ glanced sharply at them, then somehow focused back on an appalled Killjoy, plating hackled as he growled, “Starscream is ours; we love him and we’re going to take far better care of him than you ever did as his sire. He won’t want to fly away from us like you; he won’t even contemplate it. We’re going to make him so happy that he’ll spend the rest of his existence knowing that he’s adored, and welcomed, and valued.”

“You overstep -” Killjoy began to growl, but at that moment ‘TC’ grabbed Skywarp’s shoulder. There was an instance of twisting, disconcerting nothing, then suddenly they were alone and Starscream remembered to be shy as he looked around confusedly at the very cramped little room which they suddenly stood in, which was practically a walk in closet. It was full of his trinemates’ scent and he ducked his helm nervously, accepting that apparently Skywarp’s designation was a description. He shrank uncertainly, fearing angry judgement as ‘TC’ looked him up and down, then reached for him, Starscream flinching in pain as the mech’s fingers softly traced the still newly welded scratch marks on his cheek.

“We need to get you back to Vos,” decided ‘TC’ quietly, all of his froth vanished with the change in location, his wings and plating relaxed. “I’m sorry, I know that we promised your boss Flashpoint that we’d let you say goodbye to Skyfire, but the shuttle’ll just have to come to Vos instead.”

Starscream looked aside unhappily. He hadn’t thought about Skyfire; he’d been too happy to see them to think about what their arrival meant.

“Flashpoint told us a lot of things,” said ‘TC’ rather heavily, “so we know that you don’t remember trining us. We also know why, that you took contraceptive to try to avoid being trined, and we know that you only did that because of your family. You should have been in that flight because you were ready to be whole, not because your horrid kinseekers forced you, but Skywarp and I aren’t going to apologize for taking you down. You’re ours now and you’re better for it because we love you, and we’re going to cherish you into the afterlife.”

The seeker’s optics flicked down, Starscream shifted anxiously as his gaze fell on his middle, promising softly, “We’re also going to take really good care of our little ones together.”

“Oh! He’s showing?!” exclaimed Skywarp excitedly, suddenly peering around Starscream’s arm at his midriff. 

Starscream stepped away hurriedly and accidentally stumbled right into ‘TC’ who entrapped him in his arms, then kissed his neck, purring, “Yeah, Warp, check it out, but remember what I said, don’t scare him. We’ll be able to touch his middle all we want all over once he’s comfortable with us, but he’s not yet, he needs lots of attention first.”

Skywarp peered at Starscream’s middle happily anyway, declaring, “Not touching his tummy, just admiring, I promise.”

“Good mech,” said ‘TC’ and Starscream twitched as he felt something wet against his neck cables; it took him a terrible-yet-not-terrible klik to realize that it was the seeker’s glossa. He nuzzled Starscream, murmuring, “Now we finally get to worship you properly, love.”

This seemed to be going interesting and terrifying places, especially as Skywarp pressed close against them both, when the door which Starscream had not even noticed behind ‘TC’ abruptly unsealed, an extremely officially marked seeker declaring, “Ah! Lord Corporal Thundercracker, you found His Highness!”

_His_ what_?!_ Starscream gaped at the seeker. 

_ Highness,_ supplied Skywarp. Starscream twisted to stare at him, the seeker non-elaborating inanely, _You’re so lovely. I’m gonna make you purr more, your purring is so cute._

_What the frag?!  
_

“Yes, we found him, and just in time too, Lord Professor Killjoy was in his apartment,” said Lord Corporal - _his mate was a_ lord_ corporal?!_ \- Thundercracker.

_ Only since we trined you,_ giggled Skywarp, kissing his olfactory sensor and making him wince, everything about the purple slagger making him feel tickly and happy inside.

“It’s good to meet you, Prince Starscream, I’m Captain Bronzewind, the primary pilot of this vessel,” said the seeker at the door, nodding to him. “Lord Thundercracker, I’ll contact the scan team and General Acid Storm so that we can get underway as soon as possible. I’ll also contact Lord Daggerpoint and the Winglord - they’ll be very pleased to hear that His Highness is finally safely back in Vosian custody. I’m sure that the royal medics will be present to meet us upon our arrival at the palace; ETA should be about twelve joors. I’ll make sure that nobody disturbs you any further so that you can get on with bonding.”

The door shut, locked, and Starscream blinked at his trinemates, “W-what’s going on?”

“Probably better to let your kin explain that,” said Lord Corporal Thundercracker, “and it’s _just_ Thundercracker to you - or TC.” His right servo trailed lightly down the leading edge of one of Starscream’s wings, caressing as he purred, “Now for that worship I mentioned.” 

“Worship?” asked Starscream nervously. Now that he had come to his senses and gotten over his surprise at meeting them, he was remembering that he knew absolutely nothing about them.

“Forever,” purred Thundercracker huskily and Starscream shivered as they herded him backwards a step, seeming to work together, giving him nowhere to be but on the small berth. Thundercracker leant close to nuzzle him and Starscream squeaked as his aft hit the berth cushion. Giggling, Skywarp sat down beside him and Starscream’s wings jerked, almost whacking the wall behind him only to feel Skywarp catch them as Thundercracker kissed him full on the mouth. He gasped in surprise, only to immediately find himself kissing Skywarp, all promises of not touching him apparently thrown out the window as Thundercracker’s own servo caressed his newspark bump as he stole another kiss, leaving Starscream panting, feeling like he couldn’t vent properly as his trinemates kissed each other above him.

“Sorry,” grinned Thundercracker, and Starscream thought he sensed some real apology, but it was faint. “Sire-coding’s been suppressed… and you’re pretty irresistible.”

“I don’t remember -” spluttered Starscream nervously.

“We know,” said Thundercracker, kissing him and stroking his chest, “I took your valve seal myself, Starscream, so I know, but, slag… you’re so beautiful.” He ex-vented and drew back slightly, drawing Starscream’s legs across his lap so that he could sit beside him, making Starscream lay nervously on his back in submission. Thundercracker smiled at him, “Let’s start getting you used to used to our touch with a good polish.” _Skywarp, the nice polish we brought which smells pretty._

“Got it!” grinned Skywarp, pulling a bottle out of his subspace and pulling Starscream toward himself so that his helm was in his lap. Starscream watched as Skywarp squirted some of the polish into Thundercracker’s servo and he twitched in surprise as the mech started gently rubbing it into his plating on his pede. Skywarp started rubbing his helm with it and Starscream tensed for a klik, feeling obligated like he was supposed to be doing something in return, but when he tried to reach for the bottle to nervously reciprocate, Skywarp moved it out of his reach. The purple mech beamed at him, “No, we’re pampering you, remember? You’ve been neglected so you need cuddles.”

“If you’re calm and happy it’ll be better for our litter,” agreed Thundercracker, kissing his pede. Starscream winced; he hadn’t really washed in a few orns, having been glued to his berth. Thundercracker froze, and he thought that it was because he was grossed out, then the seeker caressed his side, his expression worried as he pledged, “No more of that, you’re too early in your gestation to be nestbound. You’re seeing a medic as soon as we’re landed.”

Starscream glanced at the window; technically they hadn’t taken off yet.

“A _Vosian_ medic, smartaft,” smirked Thundercracker. “And I could care less by the way that you haven’t fragging visited a wash rack, we’re supposed to ceremonially bathe you as part of welcoming you into our trine anyway.”

“And you’re not really dirty anyway if you’ve been stuck in berth,” shrugged Skywarp. “Have you flown at_ all?”_

Starscream distinctly didn’t want to admit that he had been a virtual grounder ever since returning from Vos.

going to be a lot easier from now on,” said Thundercracker, resuming rubbing with the polish. Starscream trembled; this was _nothing_ like the variety of polishing which he was used to, where mecha used a sponge or a cloth and it wasn’t sensual or caring at all, just a job. Every gentle caress of their digits made his plating tingle and his spark flicker happily, plus the polish smelled nice, better than his usual cheap Iaconian slag. 

“We’re gonna get you relaxed, and happy, and feeling cuddly,” promised Skywarp. “Wanna hear you purr more.”

“Want to hear a_ content_ purr, not a fearful purr,” emphasized Thundercracker. “Tired and trusting, the way a trinemate should always feel.”

“Maybe not _tired,”_ grinned Skywarp.

“Tired this orn,” defended Thundercracker. “Want you recharging between us, all warm and blissed, confident that we’ll protect you because that’s our job.”

“Bet you haven’t recharged proper without us,” said Skywarp.

“Probably hasn’t,” agreed Thundercracker.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, Starscream pulled his precious newspark capture out of his subspace and both of them went very still to look at it. Starscream began getting nervous, frightened by their lack of reaction until Skywarp trilled, “Look at them, TC, they’re so cute.”

“Remember for us about attending the medic,” purred Thundercracker, resuming his lovely polishing, Starscream gaping at him nervously until he smiled, “we need to know. Trine looks after each other, and it’s important that we’re fully aware of how you have suffered so that we can speak for you if need be, like if you were to get so hurt that you lost consciousness.”

Clutching the capture of their little ones to his chest, Starscream remembered, hoping that he was doing it right and he was rewarded with their caresses, Skywarp giggling, “I like that you purged on the shuttle!”

“Skywarp!” protested Thundercracker, but it was funny, and Starscream liked that Skywarp agreed with him. Thundercracker rolled his optics, “Don’t encourage him, Starscream.”

“Definitely encourage me,” grinned Skywarp, bending over to kiss Starscream. “Gonna love you always; love your frame, you’re so soft and _so_ pretty.”

Soft? Him? There went any semblance of his reputation. Starscream grimaced - it was probably slagged by his newsparks anyway - mecha would spot his seekerlings being cute and immediately think that he was adorable by extention just because he was their carrier, even if he was glaring murder at them.

“You are adorable!” confirmed Skywarp, kissing him again as Thundercracker finished a pede and began the other. “Never not cute, we get to be cute together because TC thinks I’m cute as well.”

He was pretty cute if a sire-coded mech could be called cute - Starscream twitched as Skywarp giggled and assailed him with more kisses, the polish apparently forgotten. 

“Skywarp, we’re supposed to be conditioning him to our touch,” sighed Thundercracker, “not our kisses.”

“Kisses are touch,” noted Skywarp, pausing to vent. He addressed Starscream gleefully, “Gonna cuddle you all the time, you’re never going to feel alone.”

Starscream swallowed and decided that he should probably start actually getting to know them, “So, um, what do you do for work…?”

Thundercracker, he learned, was a corporal in a regiment of the Vosian Army, with noted potential for higher rank. He had been born of a middle class military family himself, with creators and kin who were actually supportive unlike Starscream’s. Skywarp had sprung from what had been a lower class civilian family, but a career change for his carrier had started to improve things. Skywarp himself had worked retail at a convenience store, which was where Thundercracker had found him - sire-coded mecha didn’t meet in trining flights. 

Trining heats were only something which affected carrier-coded seekers like Starscream, so Thundercracker and Skywarp had had a relatively mundane courtship according to Cybertronian norms, although non-seeker sparks didn’t resonate. Skywarp had written his comm number on Thundercracker’s receipt and Thundercracker had been back the next orn, buying something inane just so that he could hand Skywarp a note regarding where he wanted to meet. A few vorns later, trine coding had prompted them to fight over hierarchy and Skywarp had submitted easily for Thundercracker, trusting him as his leader for the rest of his life. The fight had sealed that they were to bond, and they had, to the delight of their caring kin.

Starscream wished glumly that he had caring kin. All he really had was Comet.

“Comet’s the one who caved and told us that you were in Iacon,” said Skywarp.

“I think she had to wait until your sire Killjoy was gone and sneak out, personally,” said Thundercracker. “She was the only one in your family who was happy to see us.”

Typical. Starscream would never get any congratulations from them. His kin sucked.

“Not all your kin, Starscream,” said Thundercracker, but before he could ask about this, Thundercracker, who had been gradually polishing up the length of his legs suddenly kissed him where Starscream was quite sure that mecha weren’t supposed to be kissed. He jolted in surprise but Thundercracker’s kiss became a lick, his servos gently stroking his thighs apart as he looked at Starscream smoulderingly. A gasp escaped him, something between his legs _clicked_ and suddenly Thundercracker’s glossa -

Skywarp kissed him, sparing him his own idiotic moan as Thundercracker licked inside his valve, his plating feeling distinctly hot while his spark was having an excited conniption again, which continued to worsen because Thundercracker never paused. He kept licking and licking, then stimulating parts of Starscream which he hadn’t known existed, Starscream shuddering all over from the bizarre waves of pleasure until -

He onlined to Skywarp giggling and stroking his helm, declaring to Thundercracker, “You didn’t even get your spike in!”

“I will now,” purred Thundercracker, Starscream coming awake very fast as his blue mate climbed on top of him to kiss him. The kiss failed to distract him from Thundercracker’s spike tip touching him. He flinched at it and both of his trinemates whispered reassurances, then the hot length was pressed into his unaccustomed valve, which rippled around it in surprise, causing Thundercracker to moan, “Frag, you’re good, going to have to do this a lot to get you loose enough to take both of us again.”

Starscream’s optics widened _\- both? Again!?_

Thundercracker laughed huskily, “How do you suppose that we trined? But… you were in heat then so your valve was looser. Now we gotta… work it…”

And then he thrusted and Starscream made an inelegant sound of bliss, lost in the sensation of drag then push. When he twitched his legs further apart Thundercracker and Skywarp praised him, Thundercracker rumbling, “That’s r-right, beautiful, give me better access…”

The pace was slow, Starscream enraptured by Thundercracker’s every movement, shifting uncomfortably whenever Thundercracker paused because he liked him in motion better. But whenever Thundercracker paused he would nuzzle or kiss him with some praise, and Starscream couldn’t remember ever getting so much positive attention from anyone in his life. He liked it - he liked being admired, and he really liked the spike filling up his valve; he was fascinated by his view of it moving in and out of him even as it made him pant hard, almost out of breath. Thundercracker shifted his angle and started going faster, Starscream whimpering as this felt even better, his servos forgetting their absent exploration of Thundercracker’s chest when the mech suddenly held himself in hilt deep, hotness flooding Starscream’s innards making him cry out in inarticulate pleasure.

Thundercracker pulled out and he curled shuddering onto his side, purring dazedly, Thundercracker noting as he stroked Starscream’s back, “You get him next, Warp - later, though. I think he needs to recover.”

Starscream hardly heard him. He barely registered that his nausea was utterly gone and that he was being petted, then he dropped into recharge like a stone.


	6. His Royal Highness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Starscream discovers that his much despised family has been keeping awesome slag from him, and the future Elite Trine of the Decepticons finally gets to be happy.

When Starscream onlined again, he felt claustrophobic, and it took him a klik to realize that he was not actually upset about this. He was properly warm for once, yet there was no inadequate blanket covering him; instead, snuggled tightly on either side of him was a frame which was becoming familiar. Starscream felt their fields, smelled safety, and his ex-vent became a purr as he felt the pleasurable ache between his legs. For the first time since leaving Vos his frame felt completely fine; his spark was thrumming content, the painful wrongness was gone from his processor, and he no longer felt like projectile vomiting on anyone unfortunate enough to be within range of him. It was nice, even if he was crammed, plating pressed against plating, wings jammed under larger ones and faces laid against his.

A confusion came over him as he lifted his helm to see a small window, with unidentified landscape passing by below it. The narrow room that he - _they_ \- were in was as puny as remembered before he had recharged, but somehow they didn’t need much space.

He contemplated that; Thundercracker and Skywarp were piled haphazardly but tightly atop him, his movement completely restricted except for his helm, but for some reason he didn’t mind. It made him remember how Comet often lay in Killjoy’s arms without complaint and he decided that maybe she had not been crazy to tolerate that, since he felt perfectly content - happy even. He squeaked out a trill, hoping for some attention and immediately his trine stirred, Starscream twitching as he thought he felt an inkling of the pure pleasure which his presence caused his mates. Kisses and nuzzles followed, Thundercracker and Skywarp evidently delighted to be holding him captive between them.

“Where are we?” asked Starscream when his trine had calmed down enough from their hyper-affectionate greeting. Neither showed any indication that they would be moving soon, and he was quite aware that both of them had a servo on his newspark bump.

“Military transport ship,” said Thundercracker.

Starscream frowned, “Did you call in a favour with that general or something…?”

Thundercracker and Skywarp both looked at him without comprehension for a moment.

“How did you hire a military ship? Doesn’t it have better things to do than transport a civilian trine around?” asked Starscream.

Thundercracker and Skywarp exchanged a look, but whatever was exchanged between them, he had no idea what it was.

“Actually, this is your family’s doing, Starscream,” said Thundercracker finally, “and by family, I don’t mean the ones who live at your natal eyrie.”

Starscream stared at him, “I don’t have any other family.”

Another somewhat annoying exchanged look, Skywarp asked, “Do you… remember any point when you were newly a mechling when your carrier Comet took you somewhere unusual?”

“No,” said Starscream, wondering what this was supposed to mean.

“Hmm,” said Skywarp, exchanging a third look with Thundercracker.

“We should let them explain, Starscream, we should be getting into Vos in a couple of joors anyway,” decided Thundercracker. He stole Starscream’s ability to reply with a kiss and shifted away, leaving Starscream feeling somewhat cold until Skywarp shifted fully on top of him. Suddenly face to face with his second trinemate, Starscream studied him, Skywarp seeming to study him back happily. Thundercracker sat on the edge of the berth then watched them, finally rather impatiently remarking, “Well, Skywarp? What are you supposed to be doing with him?”

Skywarp suddenly beamed, and there was no warning as he kissed Starscream, who was still trying to figure out what Thundercracker meant when Skywarp informed him by fondling his valve cover. He flinched, then twitched all over as Skywarp began petting his wings in ways which Starscream had never imagined as erotic but were. For a brief klik he was blushingly reminded of Muffler’s terrible romance movies, some mocking part of his processor singing,_ you’re living it,_ then Skywarp became entirely too distracting. Long before Skywarp acquainted his valve with his spike he was moaning stupidly, the slagheap committing sweet torment to his frame with his digits which made the evil seeker snicker in pleasure.

Finally, after a joor of this glorious harassment and two tactile overloads, Thundercracker put his pede down, “Skywarp, for the love of Primus, just frag him already.”

“Yessir, Corporal TC, sir,” chirruped Skywarp.

“W-what?” spluttered Starscream, so dazed that he didn’t quite understand this. Skywarp didn’t give him time to, and a klik later he was screeching in ecstasy as his demented trinemate mounted him, then proceeded to frag him back into the contented oblivion which he had onlined from. When he finally stirred again he still felt spent, his valve twitching with a ludicrous pantomime of what Skywarp’s spike had done, his middle feeling very warm in a peculiar liquid way. His energy low, he groaned and almost instantly he was being propped up, pulled into a lap, then a cube was at his lips. He drank, tasting good, normal, sweet Vosian jet grade, the stuff which really made his glossa happy, (unlike the stuff from Helex which only tasted good if you put a dash of a particular high grade in it.)

“Good job, Star,” chirped Skywarp when he was done. He vaguely realized that it was Thundercracker’s lap that he was occupying and he sagged contentedly against the larger seeker, who hugged him. Skywarp grinned, “Why’s he so tired, TC?”

Starscream could almost feel Thundercracker’s glare, “Well, firstly because you made him overload three times _despite_ him not being used to interface in the first place.”

“Whoops,” said Skywarp, completely unrepentant.

Thundercracker rested his servo on Starscream’s belly, “Secondly, I think his frame’s busy taking care of our newsparks.”

At ‘newsparks’ Starscream promptly purred for no reason.

Skywarp snickered, “I think he has good carrier coding.”

“He’s got excellent carrier coding,” said Thundercracker firmly. Starscream’s processor hazed, half going back to recharge as he vaguely listened to them chat, purring whenever he remembered to as they continued to pet him. As exhaustedly content as he was, he still stirred as he thought that he felt the ship descending, and when there was a thud, he woke up completely, peering guardedly out the window at a spectacular display of somewhat distant city lights which weren’t familiar. 

“Looks like we’re there,” said Skywarp. “TC, you want help with him?” 

“I think Starscream will want to exit on his own pedes for this,” said Thundercracker. Starscream didn’t, actually, and he wasn’t at all looking forwards to being assaulted by a medic, but Thundercracker gently coaxed him onto his pedes anyway. They ran a soft polishing cloth over him and each other, taking care that all three of them were decent, then they waited, Starscream wondering why his trinemates were so pensive, as well as why they didn’t just walk off the ship since they had obviously arrived at their destination. Just as he was about to impatiently try the door, it unlocked and opened, the pilot Bronzewind apologizing for the intrusion, then inquiring if they were ready.

“Of course we are,” huffed Starscream, annoyed that this wasn’t obvious.

“Then right this way, Your Highness,” chirruped Bronzewind. Frowning hard at Thundercracker and Skywarp, who avoided his gaze, Starscream followed through the close interior of the ship to its rear, where an open ramp was letting in the cool of Vos’ night. Internally scowling because he would have to get over jet lag _yet again_ and wondering why his trinemates insisted on him being in the lead, Starscream stalked halfway down the ramp then stopped, staring. Standing alert at the bottom of the ramp, was a trine from his neighbourhood which he often remembered seeing - the green seeker, Acid Storm, had even come running once when he had fouled a wing, and had fed him a very tasty candy, the likes of which Starscream had never tasted since. Starscream had always thought that they were well-meaning neighbours, so what were they doing here, at Vos’ palace?

What was _Starscream_ doing here?

He looked past the trine standing at attention and saw four others standing waiting for him, two of them peculiarly familiar - and not because he had glimpsed them in tabloids, he realized. Slowly, very slowly, he moved the rest of the way down the ramp, wings twitching as he thought about how the mecha on the ship had referred to him as Highness and when he was halfway to the four mecha who were waiting for him, he stopped to look back at the military transport, which didn’t just have Vosian military markings - it had royal ones. Glancing at his trinemates, who chirped softly in support, he looked again at the two seekers who were waiting for him, who up close looked so much like Killjoy, like _him_. He studied them for a full klik uncertainly, abruptly at a loss for what to do, until the older, burlier mech, one of the most venerated seekers in Vos, spread his arms with a summoning trill, the kind that creators used with their offspring.

He hesitantly obeyed it, and too busy wondering whether he was supposed to drop and kowtow, he was taken utterly by surprise when the seeker snatched him in a hug, purring, “Oh sweetspark, I’ve been waiting so long to meet you.”

Starscream almost stiffened, but before he could he felt the mech’s spark and he melted against him, shocked but happy, because he couldn’t remember the last time one of his kinseekers had hugged him that way. Still embracing him tightly, the mech purred, “I’m your grandsire, Starscream, and I am going to make sure that you are respected properly as befits your lineage from here on out. You will be properly protected and your great intelligence will be celebrated the way that it should have always been. Oh, Starscream, we’re so glad that you’re home.”

A servo touched his shoulder, and Starscream looked into the face of the Winglord of Vos as she smiled, “Welcome home, nephew.”

“It’s so good to meet you!” chirped one of the mecha flanking the winglord, the Royal Trine. 

“We’ve heard that you may have newsparks,” said Winglord Mercury as she pulled him into a hug too, Lord Daggerpoint reluctantly relinquishing him to her. “Let’s go get you checked over, and make sure that my brother’s negligence as a sire hasn’t harmed you or them.”

* * *

Their newsparks, mercifully, had not suffered at all, although the Royal Medics noted that his gestation had been complicated with a delay, which seemed to profoundly anger Starscream’s royal kin. Starscream himself seemed to be in shock, but Skywarp had not had much chance to talk to him yet as his kin had been hogging him. Even now one of the Winglord’s trinemates was glued to his tricoloured mate’s side, and the Crown Prince of Vos, who had shown up in the medical bay, was holding Starscream’s servo. After meeting Starscream’s horrible natal family, it was gratifying to see him with kin who actually cared about him, the royal family much more loving in private than they ever seemed on the news. 

As Skywarp watched, Starscream twitched and the Royal Medic apologized, her assistant applying a bit more numbing agent to his wing before she continued applying the royal family’s brand. Skywarp appreciated that the medics were so careful and gentle with his new mate, but after orns of searching all around Cybertron for his mate, he really wanted to go home. He kept this thought internalized, feeling that it would be rude to voice aloud, and he watched the hushed but clearly angry discussion between the Winglord and Lord Daggerpoint, who seemed absolutely furious with Lord Professor Killjoy. 

“…I want him arrested for abuse!” the Winglord hissed a little too loudly.

Starscream glanced over and the Winglord’s trinemate tutted, “Hold still, sweetspark, don’t worry about any of that, Mercury’s just planning her revenge, that’s all.”

Skywarp shared a concerned glance with Thundercracker - had the carrier of their offspring, their trinemate, just…_ smirked?_

“I think Uncle Killjoy will be regretting his decisions in life,” said the Crown Prince, wrapping both of his arms around Starscream’s one affectionately. “Like I was saying, I don’t think you need to worry about work, my sire and our grandsire already have projects in mind for you which they think you’ll like.”

“How do they know anything I like?” asked Starscream logically. Skywarp wondered this too.

“You’re Royal,” pointed out the Crown Prince, “plus, as soon as my sire heard that you were employed by the University of Iacon and was a student there she demanded all of your records, so she knows all about what fields you studied, worked in - all of it. Pretty impressive, by the way! Nobody in the family has ever been an interstellar explorer before.”

“A what?” asked Skywarp helplessly of Thundercracker.

“Space explorer,” translated Thundercracker, squeezing his hand. “I think everything’s going to be okay from now on, Skywarp.”

“I hope so,” vented Skywarp earnestly. Time seemed to drag by in the royal medical bay, but at last the Royal Medic was done, the Winglord had seemingly decided on a plan for war against her brother, and Skywarp was feeling glad actually that they had been left waiting so long in the medbay because _Primus_, Starscream was a sight with the glittering royal brand on his wing. He looked absolutely stunning, if exhausted, and Skywarp perked up hopefully when Lord Daggerpoint tenderly hugged their sleepy mate, crooning, “We’d best get this carrier to his nest so that he can recover, mecha, then leave him alone with his new trine for a decaorn. Once that’s over we’ll start discussing how his brilliance will aid Vos.”

“Finally,” ex-vented Thundercracker, and they gratefully followed Starscream’s family out then down a maze-like network of hallways which Skywarp doubted that he would ever be able to remember. There was expensive stuff and guards all over the place, and he got excited when the Winglord said something about them ‘being there’ only to realize with horror that maybe this meant they weren’t going to get to take Starscream back to the home that they had built for him because of him being royal. Shaking with silent protest, he exchanged horrified looks with Thundercracker, frightened of all their hard work being forgotten just because Starscream’s family wanted him.

“Here, we’re in the inner sanctum, so you’ll be nice and safe. There’s a ballistic force field outside which will only let specific mecha get anywhere near the balcony,” said Winglord Mercury to Starscream.

“But…” whispered Starscream in the same protest as Skywarp and Thundercracker, only to fall silent, Skywarp gasping as the door opened. 

Inside, impossibly, was their apartment in every exacting detail, as if it had somehow been teleported there.

“We had it moved,” shrugged the Winglord to their shocked gazes. “We weren’t going to force Starscream to accept a different nest, and you worked hard to make this place the way that you wanted it, but we can’t handle your security from across the city, so we moved it. You’d be surprised what slag you can pull off when you’re rolling in shanix.”

Skywarp wondered if his jaw would ever leave the floor.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Thundercracker earnestly, looking like he would have hugged her if she wasn’t the fragging _Winglord._

“Speaking of security, you two are now employed by the palace as Starscream’s official bodyguards,” noted Winglord Mercury. “You’ll find your pay is _considerably_ better than at your previous jobs, and that you get to be significantly lazier - at least for now while our prince is gravid - I expect you to be at his side at all times. Congratulations on your trining.”

Starscream received another salvo of hugs, then finally they were alone in their apartment. Starscream hesitated, peering tiredly around, and Skywarp felt unbelievably happy as his pregnant mate went straight for the nest that they had made for him. Starscream laid down, yawned, and twisted purring onto his back, showing his underside to the ceiling in the most unbearably cute moment of seekerness that Skywarp had ever seen.

_I told you carrier mecha did adorable stuff,_ said Thundercracker gleefully.

Skywarp beamed, and slowly sat down beside Starscream, his spark full of joy as if all the stressful orns of being apart from him following their trining had never happened.

* * *

Starscream’s life had never been so peaceful or happy before. As promised, his royal relatives were staying away to let him bond with his new trine, with whom he was spending every moment - waking as well as not. They spent most of their time talking, grooming or cuddling, or often all of it at the same time. There were many long joors spent doing absolutely nothing but snuggling, and quite a few other joors were spent in searing passion as they mated to strengthen their newsparks as well as their bond. Driven by reproductive need, their interface wasn’t particularly inventive, but Starscream was new at it anyway, so it didn’t matter. Each moment spent with his trine, no matter what they were doing strengthened their bond further and Starscream wondered why he had invested so much effort avoiding becoming part of a trine when it was the very best thing that had ever happened to him.

But he still could not remember their trining night. 

He could tell that his trine recalled it in great clarity, but he had only flickers of it left to him - impressions of being nuzzled up against, of being pinned to the street by Thundercracker, and a flash of Skywarp appearing directly in his flight path. Starscream supposed he only remembered the latter because Skywarp had probably scared the bolts out of him when he had done that, but the memory was so fragmented that he felt none of the emotions that should have been connected to it. The memories of the most important night of his life had been robbed from him by his own stupidity, and he had nobody to blame but himself (although he did spend as much effort as possible blaming Killjoy instead.)

Starscream did not realize that an entire decaorn of trine bonding had passed until there was a chime at their inner door, and a tired Thundercracker went to answer it, leaving Starscream firmly snuggled against Skywarp still. It was too comfortable in his nest with Skywarp for Starscream to be particularly curious about the door chime. His gestation tank was also very warm still from their last mating, which always made him feel almost sedated, a fact which Skywarp was taking full advantage of to pick lovingly through his plating with supremely gentle claws. Since he was so thoroughly distracted with this, he did not really notice Lord Daggerpoint until the mech was kneeling at the edge of the berth and reaching to pet him.

He almost stopped purring, but then his grandsire’s touch was kind, his energy friendly, and Starscream gave up.

“I think he’s definitely progressed, his middle looks more distended than it previously did,” Thundercracker was saying.

“Hopefully not too rapidly,” said Lord Daggerpoint. “I hate to disturb him, but it’s time that he was checked on again, and finally met your creation trines properly. I don’t believe that the little check they did when he was still unconscious following your trining counts.”

“No, it doesn’t,” said Thundercracker, reaching to pet Starscream too and caressing his belly. Starscream promptly deflated onto his side and purred harder.

“You are very sparked, my grandcreation,” snorted Lord Daggerpoint.

“Star, we have to go see the medics and other mecha, can you get up?” asked Thundercracker.

Starscream eyed him sleepily, distinctly lacking any thought of why he cared about anything beyond his nest and possibly their wash rack.

“I correct myself: he’s extremely sparked,” smiled Lord Daggerpoint, to Skywarp’s adored giggling. “Starscream, up on your pedes, you’re not that gravid yet.”

Starscream twitched up a wing in defiance, showing his royal grandsire exactly how gravid he was.

“Alright, sweetspark, but this is the only period in your life where you’ll be forgiven for being this lazy,” chuckled Lord Daggerpoint, and he enlisted Skywarp to carry Starscream, which Skywarp did extremely proudly. Starscream snuffled against his trinemate contentedly when he was picked up, but common sense trickled back to him the moment they stepped outside into the hallway. Seeing _guards_ looking at him, Starscream reinstated his legs, writhing free of Skywarp and attempted to ignore his grandsire’s laughter as the amused old mech declared, “I knew he’d do that. Not even carrying can undo millions of centravorns of royal pride.”

“Star, you were being cute -” protested Skywarp, who wasn’t as impressed by this development.

“We’re in _public_, Skywarp,” hissed Starscream, even though they weren’t not really, and even though he actually had no idea where the frag the medical bay was, he commenced stubbornly leading the way anyway, which made Daggerpoint laugh even more. His behaviour seemed to bemuse his trinemates, who were used to his other, private self, but Starscream determined that they’d just have to get used to it, because he was a prince, damnit! (And even before he had been a fragging _prince_ he’d been this way. Skyfire could’ve told them.)

After a few redirections, Starscream strutted into the medbay and immediately almost tripped over his own pedes as he saw six very common looking seekers who also bore striking resemblances to his trinemates. The Winglord was also present, along with her trine, but she was merely his aunt now, nothing special, except for some reason it was her who helped him recompose himself, then hugged him.

Hugs were fine. Starscream hugged her back - she felt nicer than Killjoy ever had, even when he used to be comforting.

“How are you adjusting, Starscream?” asked Winglord Mercury as her trinemates joined the hug.

“I’m okay,” said Starscream earnestly.

“Mercury, you should have seen him, he was refusing to leave his nest,” smirked Lord Daggerpoint, instantly fulfilling his role as embarrassing elder. “Wouldn’t get up at all, so I had Lord Skywarp carry him out the door; he promptly remembered his pride there.”

The Winglord had the indecency to laugh.

“Alright, Starscream, come meet your trinemates’ creators,” said Winglord Mercury, (once she had stopped snickering like a school sparkling at him.) Starscream felt foreboding as he approached the two creation trines, but actually, they were nice, both trines much kinder than his own creators. He was just beginning niceties and finding out what they all did for work when new favourite cousin the Crown Prince bustled in, Starscream forgetting what he was supposed to be saying as he saw who the Crown Prince had brought with him.

“Carrier,” said Starscream weakly as Comet started crying.

“Not all your creators are slag, Star,” said Crown Prince Courageflight (he and his cousin were already on nickname terms.) 

“Starscream!” whimpered Comet, and Starscream thoroughly disgraced himself by crying (he promised himself that he would refute that this had ever happened later.) They clung to each other like idiots, Comet bawling incoherent apologies and compliments to his trine which Starscream doubted that anyone apart from her could actually fully understand. Finally, a sniffling Comet was pulled consolingly away by Courageflight’s carrier, and Starscream’s medical exam finally commenced, Comet giving a joyful squeak whenever the royal medics said anything even remotely in reference to Starscream’s litter. 

“They’re developing just fine,” concluded the Royal Medic, at which Comet started sobbing with joy again. (Primus, why.) “It doesn’t seem like the seperation has set them back at all, just delayed their emergence. I suspect that the rest of the carrying will be smooth, but we’ll keep a very close optic on it anyway, and I went to give the prince some line supplements…”

Later, after more visiting with kin, when Starscream was again closeted and entwined with his trine in their nest, he reflected that his life had taken a remarkably good turn. His horrible sire had been arrested by his incensed royal aunt (not to mention quite a few of his other natal kinseekers were in jail too, for having interfered with the search for him.) To his relief, his in-laws were good mecha and his proper kin were awesome (Courageflight had promised to come by with his littermates to give Starscream tips on royal fabulousness - not that he thought that Starscream wasn’t fabulous already.) Starscream also really loved being with his trine, who were everything that he needed; he knew that there would likely be dark times ahead, with the energon shortages which the news had been bemoaning when they had left Iacon, but he’d be safe with his trine.

And yet… he still couldn’t remember their trining.

“Star, what is it?” asked Thundercracker sleepily, nuzzling against him as evening fell.

“I don’t remember our trining night,” said Starscream, burning with shame.

“Let’s spark merge; Warp and I’ll remember for you,” whispered Thundercracker. Starscream shifted nervously, considering that they had not spark merged even once yet, but Thundercracker and Skywarp both sat up, coaxing him gently onto his back as if for a ‘face, except this was different, better. He saw their plating shift as if to transform, then he found himself gazing at their life forces in the most intimate moment that he had yet experienced with them. Somehow his frame knew how to reply, his regal golden spark melting into azure and amethyst as they settled close.

And then he remembered, from his own point of view, as if he had never forgotten at all.


	7. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skyfire needed closure. Also I wanted an excuse to write about seekerlings.

The only time in Starscream’s life when he had not thought about Skyfire, had been back when Skyfire hadn’t been in it, before he had met him. His new life in Vos, which felt like a completely different existence from his sparklinghood, left him little time to mope over the fact that two university breaks swiftly passed without Skyfire even sending him the shortest of notes. He sent Skyfire letters; he sent him one every few orns or so at first, then, as none returned his way, they shifted more to once a decaorn. Starscream tried to ask what Skyfire thought about the palace seekers who came to take his stuff from their apartment, and the royal agent who graciously ended his employment with the University of Iacon, but from Skyfire there was nothing.

At first this hurt, but whenever Starscream felt the faintest bit depressed about it one of his trinemates would immediately be there, summoned by the bond so that it was impossible to feel lonely. His mates filled him, processor and spark, and they didn’t become any less affectionate after his carrying meant that they could no longer mate with him. They were always nuzzling up against him, grooming his aching frame when he lost the flexibility to reach (and before that too.) Starscream didn’t even need to say anything and one would be beside him, keeping him company by pressing close, sheltering his tired body from non-existent weather with a wing. 

As Starscream edged closer to his delivery date, the etiquette, law and politics tutors whom the Winglord had hired to instruct him gradually shortened his classes until they stopped coming at all, departing on the final orn to commence his classes again once his litter was strong enough. The Royal Medics kept track of Starscream’s gestation progress; towards the end they were coming once an orn to check on him and it was around that time that Starscream’s attention turned inwards. Skyfire was utterly forgotten and he barely remembered his attentive trine, who were his constant companions. They were perhaps the only reason that he ate anything in the final orns before he gave birth, because he completely lost interest in fuel. 

He would lay on his side for joors, wings limp and optics unfocused on nothing, softly purring in reassurance, his awareness locked on his newsparks, who were close to becoming seekerlings. Starscream felt them getting impatient, claustrophobic for the first time in their lives, although up until then they had never had any idea what discomfort was. They were generally very basic things, and they seemed to consider him a god-like entity, (not that they understood that concept either.) Their first two emotions were love and happiness; Starscream made sure they knew nothing but. 

And then one orn his litter went quiet as if asleep and for the first time in perhaps a decaorn he actually fully noticed things around him. He peered around sleepily, still purring because that was pretty much all he did, and he heard excited whispers from the gathered kin. There was murmured reassurance, and the discomfort of one last exam from the Royal Medic, then a wait, a long wait which he didn’t bother to understand, because the beloved part of his processor which spoke science wasn’t on speaking terms with his instincts. 

Starscream gave birth to his litter in the dead of the night. The Royal Family joked that it was him being his ornery self, although Starscream remembered no conscious decision on his part. Only his trine were awake to attend him, and instinct kept them from giving what was happening away, shielding his contorting frame with their wings. They didn’t say anything to announce the birth of their offspring; they didn’t even make a sound, just adamantly tried to stick their heads under Starscream’s wing to look until he got too annoyed with them because they were in his way. 

Nestled against his tummy plating, tiny, wet and shivering, his litter got their first education with what it was like being outside of his gestation chamber. After being in a temperature controlled dream for the entirety of their little lives, they didn’t like it, and they immediately figured out their vocalizers, their tinny squeaks galvanizing Starscream to take care of them.

He then refused to show them to anyone for three orns; not even Skywarp’s protests that he and Thundercracker had had something to do with their existence made him lift his wing. From purring constantly like a sappy idiot, Starscream took to hissing, which his family naturally found absolutely hilarious (Thundercracker and Skywarp’s relatives were less amused.) When Skywarp protested the Winglord laughing, she snickered at him that he should have been more careful when he decided to trine a Royal - royals didn’t like sharing. (She also informed Skywarp that carriers of the royal sparkline were known to kill in order to protect their litters. Skywarp didn’t recharge that night.)

Eventually, Starscream allowed his seekerlings to be held so long as the mecha holding them did not leave his sightline. 

With his helpless seekerlings wholly occupying him with their explosives-grade cuteness, Skyfire was driven even further from his mind. He was hawkishly watching the puny things clumsily play under his wing (they never strayed more than a step or two from his side,) and vaguely contemplating their designations (which Skywarp kept begging him for,) when there was a chime at the door. With a low growl Starscream adjusted himself and warned his litter to be quiet, the trio scrambling to hide under his wing. There was a conversation at the door but he was distracted from it by Skywarp, who was foolishly attempting to steal one of Starscream’s seekerlings (he didn’t give a damn that Skywarp had sired them, Starscream had carried them and if Skywarp thought that he could randomly cuddle them whenever he wanted then he had another thing coming.) 

“Skywarp, stop doing that, Star’s going to take your servo off or something,” ordered Thundercracker as he came back over.

Skywarp stiffened, staring at something past Thundercracker. Starscream took advantage of his distraction to take care of the holes in his security, vengefully shifting his legs so that Skywarp couldn’t reach under his wing to snag a seekerling.

“Are you sure it’s okay?” asked a hesitant voice in Neocybex. Starscream’s helm whipped up and he stared; suddenly, there was Skyfire, standing in their apartment. Skyfire frowned, looking nervous, “Star… kinda looks homicidal.”

“He always looks like that,” snorted Thundercracker. “He’s possessive as slag over our litter, we haven’t yet managed to convince his coding that we can _help him_ take care of them so that he can take _breaks_.”

Starscream glanced at Thundercracker blankly, not computing.

“See? Processor’s obsessed with our seekerlings,” said Thundercracker.

Skyfire hesitantly sat down at the edge of Starscream’s nest, “Hey, Star. I’m… I’m sorry I haven’t replied. Took me a while to… understand and stuff.”

“I wouldn’t try to touch him,” warned Thundercracker. “Put your servo anywhere near his side where his seekerlings are and you’ll have a good view of your servo’s internal components while it gushes energon.”

Skyfire, wisely, looked somewhat frightened. Skywarp, being an idiot, attempted to stick his servo under the edge of Starscream’s wing and Starscream snarled in warning, Skywarp skittering away.

“Um, maybe he’d stop trying to kill you if you stopped making a game out of that,” suggested Skyfire with a grimace.

“Yeah, Skywarp,” scowled Thundercracker.

“Can I… speak with Star alone?” asked Skyfire hopefully.

“No,” said Skywarp, slinking back into the nest, entirely too gleeful for his own good.

“No,” agreed Thundercracker. “Sorry, shuttle, but with his coding riled ours is too.”

“Coding,” sighed Skyfire. “I guess… I guess I treated Star like another shuttle when I called you two a one night stand.”

“Uh huh,” agreed Skywarp.

“Skywarp, shut up, let the shuttle at least have the semblance of an idea that he is having a private conversation even though we won’t leave,” said Thundercracker in Vosian.

“Well, technically they were a one night stand, by the basic definition of ‘one night stand’ so you weren’t wrong, entirely,” decided Starscream, purring a bit as his seekerlings squeaked at him curiously and wriggled against his side.

The corner of Skyfire’s lips twitched, almost into a smile as his trinemates rolled their optics. “Still… coding.”

“Yeah,” agreed Starscream. “They’re the best conjunxes I could ask for. Better than what I ever imagined.”

“Starscream, you _never_ imagined,” snorted Skyfire. “You were always -” he put on an annoying impression of Starscream’s voice, “- Skyfire, I am never conjunxing or getting trined! Trining is stupid! All my carrier does is pop out sparklings!”

Skywarp and Thundercracker’s disgust was like sweet nectar. Starscream snickered, “Well I was apparently wrong.”

“How is trined life then?” asked Skyfire, seeming hopeful for some sign that he was okay.

“Better than anything,” said Starscream earnestly. “except my new executives.”

Thundercracker groaned and covered his face, complaining in Vosian, “Starscream, don’t call them that.”

“How can they be executives when they get spooked by silly faces?” wondered Skywarp.

“Also how are they better than _us_?” moaned Thundercracker.

Starscream ignored them; they hadn’t been privy to the biggest seekerling’s pure delight at discovering that he had thumbs that morning. 

“Do they have designations yet?” asked Skyfire hopefully.

“No,” said Starscream. He peered under his wing, checking on the cheerfully peeping wiggling mess there. “Do you want to see?”

“Of course he does, Star, why else does anyone visit a carrier after they have given birth?” grumbled Thundercracker, still in Vosian.

“I wanna see,” complained Skywarp, which wasn’t news, considering that he _always_ wanted to see.

Starscream carefully angled his wing up, exposing his litter to the room again, at which they blinked dramatically at the change in light before resuming their bids to sit on each other, none of them remotely noticing Skywarp, much less Skyfire or Thundercracker. Skyfire’s jaw shifted open and an almost pained expression came over his face.

“Star,” said Skyfire very seriously, “those are the cutest damned sparklings that I have ever seen.”

“Of course they are, they came from me,” determined Starscream primly.

“Are they trying to sit on each other again?” complained Thundercracker.

“They’re asserting dominance,” dismissed Starscream.

“Star, they’re only three decaorns old, they don’t have any concept of dominance yet,” sighed Thundercracker.

“Yes, they do,” said Starscream stubbornly.

“Star,” said Skyfire, and Starscream looked at him, because he was serious. “I was really conflicted and worried about you when you came back sparked by strangers, but… I think that this is the best thing that ever happened to you. I’m glad that you brought back souvenirs to Iacon.”

One of the seekerlings abruptly discovered hissing, and all intelligent conversation dissolved away as the entire litter tried out the sound, none of them remotely comprehending yet what it was for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thundercracker and Skywarp learn from their mistakes and never spark Starscream again. (He's too busy being Winglord and Air Commander anyway.)


End file.
